Class QxT 1^51 

Book _ iJ g 

GofyrightiS 





ntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886 s 
by 

F. < B. «Dickersor) & Co., 
the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, 



PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. 



Books are educators, and their aim should be to answer and 
encourage those earnest aspirations for improved conditions, 
higher culture and a better environment, felt by every intelli- 
gent person. As we are endowed with a sense and a love of 
physical beauty, so also have we an ideal of moral, intellectual 
and social beauty. 

Man seeks a triple perfection: first, intellectual, which no 
creature below him aspires to or is capable of; second, a 
moral, or divine perfection, consisting of those things where- 
unto we tend by spiritual means, but which, here, we can not 
attain; lastly, a social perfection, consisting of the elements 
which are essential to the existence of society, and embracing 
also, in its higher department, all those graces which render 
human intercourse beautiful, and satisfy those finer social 
instincts which God has implanted in the breasts of all superior 
beings. 

Intellectual and moral training are necessary adjuncts to the 
social training of every individual who would attain the highest 



IV 



PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. 



culture in this direction. That structure endures longest the 
foundation of which is most securely laid. As no work of the 
architect will withstand the beating rays of the summer sun or 
the blasts of winter without a firm basis, so it may be said of 
man, that he cannot hope to maintain a social position, impreg- 
nable to all assaults of public criticism, without morality and 
intellectuality as a foundation upon which to build his social 
structure. A higher and nobler aim must be his, also, than 
that of social position alone ; and it is the object of the present 
work, first, to encourage and assist its student in the praise, 
worthy enterprise of erecting a moral and intellectual temple; 
second, to lay down those social laws that will enable him 
suitably to decorate it. 

It is believed that the work is wholly original and unique, — 
that nothing approaching it, either in form or scope, was ever 
before attempted. In preparing it, the publishers have, at 
great expense of time, patience and money, called to their aid 
those men and women who, by reason of their intellectual 
training and high positions in society, seemed best fitted to 
lead an upward tendency in the moral, intellectual and social 
training of the people. We trust we have succeeded in pro- 
viding for the public a work that needs no apology for its 
appearance; but one that will be a welcome visitor to every 
home where worthy books are to be found. 

F. B. D. & CO. 



CONTENTS. 



PART I. 

Intellectual Culture, . 19 

By Rev. Bishop Samuel Fallows, D. D., LL. D., Chicago, 111. 

Physical Culture, 3° 

By Prof. E. B. Warman. 

Evils of Mental Dissipation, ......... 4 1 

By A. S. Andrews, A. M., D. D., President of the Southern University, Greensboro, 
Alabama. 

Foes of Society, . . . . . • ■ • • • 59 

By Rev. Ransom Dunn, D. D., President of Hillsdale College, Mich. 

Associations of Young Men and Young Women, ..... 70 

By B. F. Austin, A. M., B. D., President of Alma College, St. Thomas, Ont. 

Books and Associates, 9° 

By Rev. Geo. W. Williard, D. D., President of Heidelberg College, Tiffin, Ohio. 

Early Training, ....... 102 

By John H. Young, A. M., Author of " Our Deportment." 

A Plea for Higher Education of Mothers, . 109 

By F. S. Burton, B. S., LL. B., Detroit, Mich. 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



The Library in the Home, . ... 116 

By Chas. N. Sims, D. D., Chancellor of the University of Syracuse, N. Y. 

Individual Character, . . . 127 

By Wm. A. Obenchain, President of Ogden College, Bowling Green, Ky. 

Music in the Home, . ......... 137 

By L. R. Fiske, D. D., LL. D., President of Albion College, Mich. 

Cultivate a Desire to Please, ........ 143 

By Mary Ashley Townsend, New Orleans, La. 

Social Reciprocity, . 159 

By Mrs. M. L. Rayne, Author of "Against Fate, 1 ' "What Can A Woman Do?" Etc. 

Influences of Nature, . . . . . . . . . . 165 

By Rev. Sylvester F. Scovel, President of the University of Wooster, Ohio. 

Manners Consistent with Religion, . . ... 183 

By W. G. Eliot, D. D., President of Washington University, St. Louis, Mo. 

Regard for Public Opinion, . . . . - . . 199 

By J. D. Moffat, I). D., President of Washington and Jefferson College, Washington, 
Pennsylvania. 

Home Attractions and Amusements, . . ... . 214 

By Rev. Jas. H. Potts, D. D., Editor " Christian Advocate." 

Self-Respect, . .... . • 236 

By A. R. Taylor, Ph. D., President of Kansas State Normal School. 

How to Write a Letter, ......... 244. 

By G. De Lazarre, Ph. D., LL. D. 

To-Day and Fifty Years Ago, 262 

By Mrs. Henry Ward Beecher, Brooklyn, N. Y. 



The Commercial Value of Good Breeding, . . . 269 

By Rev. Charles O. Reilly, D. D., Treasurer of the Irish National League, Detroit, Mich. 



CONTENTS. 



VII 



PART II. 



Social Culture, , . . . . . ■ - , "» . - . 283 

Entering Society, . ... . 295 

In Public Places, ........... 306 

Introductions, . . ■ .. . . . . 320 

In the Street, . . . .... . . . . . 336 

Salutations, . . , _ . . . , - , 346 

Riding and Driving, .... , - 357 

Soirees, Matinees and Musicals, . - . , .363 

Ladies' Calls and Cards, . , . 385 

Calling Customs of Gentlemen 402 

Visitors and Visiting, ........ .416 

Ceremonious. Dinners . . 425 

In the Dining-Room, . . . . . . . , 445 

The Art of Conversation, ....... 461 

Customs and Costumes for Weddings, . , 475 

Receptions, Kettle-Drums and Five O'Clock Teas, . - 493 

Manners While Traveling, . ..... . 504 

The Awkward and Shy, ...... . 512 

At Home, and Foreign Courts, . . . > . . . . 523 

Superstitions of Rings and Precious Stones, ... 535 



INTRODUCTION. 



N OTHING could be more suggestive than the title of this 
book; and nothing can be more important than what it 
suggests. Whether we take the title — You and I — 
or its paraphrase and sub-title — Moral, Intellectual 
and Social Culture, — the subjects involved in the consid- 
eration of the one or the other, or the two halves as a whole, 
are each separately, or both unitedly, that which concerns each 
one of us who reads, most specially and vitally. 

When this book introduces itself to me, it can not confront 
me abstractly. It brings concreteness by the first word it 
utters. It is to me it addresses itself. You and I, from a 
lifeless page, may indeed leave the I unspecified, but the You 
is impossible of confusion. The " 1 ,1 remains for me to denote, 
but the " You " is always myself, and suggests to me a con- 
sideration of my particular relation toward another or others 
of my kind; the thing meant being the attitude of my par- 
ticular individual self to one or more or all of the particular 
individuals which compose Jihat segment of humanity with 
which I come in contact. So much for the subject suggested 
by the title, which is but a synonym for the sub-title; for it is 
the movement of this radius of self upon the surface of this 
segment of humanity which results in culture. 



10 



INTRODUCTION. 



Much has been written, talked, and preached about culture. 
Ideas and ideals have been freely formulated, good, bad, and 
indifferent. The good may be left as good seed to bring 
forth from good soil its proper harvest. The indifferent may be 
left to that limbo which awaits all characterless things, whose 
mission is forever to amount to nothing. But of the bad, 
a bad word should always be said, for the bad ideas which 
prevail concerning this much mooted theme, culture, are bad 
with a vitality which makes them mischievous to an unlimited 
degree. I wish to speak in these few pages of preface to a 
book whose title promises so much, of one of these harmful 
ideas of culture, as being most relevant, indirectly, to what is 
doubtless the true aim and scope of the essays which follow. 

I wish especially to inveigh against that idea of culture 
which points to a specialty as the ultimatum of aspiration and 
achievement. There is no gospel of culture preached with so 
much noxious energy as that of a one-sided culture, none 
which captivates its victims with so sincere a sophistry. 

The mandate which says to the young man or young 
woman: Be moral! and prescribes thereupon a formula-of con- 
duct so nice and so narrow, that he who practices it walks in 
fear a tight-rope of prohibitions stretched above cataracts and 
rapids and mocking maelstroms, his eyes constantly upon his 
feet, oblivious to all the boundless beauty above and beyond, 
blind to all but the peril beneath. Such an one may, must be 
a very Blondin of negative morality. He can do no harm, and 
get none, for he comes in contact with no one and no things; 
but he achieves neither culture nor morality in a true sense. 

So, again, of much that is taught concerning intellectual 
culture. How many a serious and sincere-minded youth 
believes and earnestly practices those precepts concerning cul- 
ture which shut him up to mental cultivation ! He consecrates 
himself to books, lectures, perhaps travel and sight-seeing, in 



IN TR OD UC TION. 



11 



short, to all things which contribute to the realization of his 
ideal of culture, making of himself a very encyclopaedia of 
information, a guide-book of travel; and when, with all this 
accumulation, he comes to confront the infallible test of all 
culture — the attitude of the You to the I — his relativity to 
others of his kind — he is weighed in the balances and found 
wanting. His cultivation of mind, isolated and unfinished by 
the frictions of complemental cultivations, is short of measure. 
He has aimed at culture, and society finds him to have 
achieved pedantry. Conscious, finally, of this merciless sen- 
tence, he hugs to his heart a sense of unappreciated superiority, 
which isolates him more and more, and removes him farther 
and farther from the sources of all true culture. His idea of 
intellectual culture has been quite correct, as far as it has gone, 
but he errs in supposing that this alone can result in culture. 

I have indicated the mischievousness of a one-sided ideal of 
culture on the plane of the moral and intellectual; but what 
shall be said of the mischief lurking in the one-sided ideals 
which prevail concerning social culture? What is so pitiful 
as the self-delusion of that devoted parent who launches a son 
or daughter unfledged upon the wide waters of " society," 
there to cruise about in the faith of thus finding that harbor of 
ambition for both parent and child — culture? Where can 
one be found more destitute, as a rule, of true social culture 
than he who has been "always in society?" It is as if 
one who seeks to master the art of navigation should aban- 
don himself to a life upon the Atlantic Ocean unequipped 
save by his bathing-suit. In that wild waste he will find 
neither ship, chart nor compass, nor proper rules for their 
guidance and use. Had these accessories accompanied 
him, he might have attained the crest of his ambition, the 
science of navigation. Being destitute of them, he may, 
indeed, escape drowning by dint of good wind and good luck, 



12 



IN TR OD UC TION. 



but he will be much tossed about, the guest of many a chance 
craft, and most likely a stranger forever to the longed-for 
shore. 

A far too limited scope has often been given to the term, 
social culture. I doubt if one too unlimited has been, or can be 
given to it. There is moral culture, and there is intellectual 
culture, and, as we have seen, neither of these terms is an 
inclusive term for culture. I am not sure, however, that social 
culture, in its severest definition, is not an inclusive term for 
all. I may speak of moral culture and of intellectual culture, 
and make by that no mention of social culture. A man may 
be truly and profoundly intellectual, living a large, though not 
the largest, intellectual life, and yet have no external point of 
of contact with his fellow-man. And so with moral culture ; 
a man may live a life of rigid and frigid morality (so called) 
and yet be a recluse. These cultures do not necessarily in- 
volve social culture ; but a true social culture does necessarily 
involve both moral and intellectual culture. Each is an essen- 
tial factor of a social culture worthy the name. 

Having now said my bad word for the flimsy ideas and 
superficial ideals which are so dangerously prevalent on this 
most important subject, it behooves me to say a good word for 
what I believe to be a true idea, and a worthy ideal of culture. 
It becomes my dangerous duty to offer what I believe to be an 
adequate definition of this much-defined, but still indefinite, 
term. Such a definition is, I think, suggested by the title of 
this book, and may be logically deduced from what has 
gone before. 

By the term culture, I take it, must be meant a symmetrical 
development of all those faculties with which a human nature 
is endowed for the purposes of living a human life worthily 
and well. I have carefully chosen that phrase — purposes of 
living — though I am aware that it makes my definition of 



IN TROD UCTION. 



L3 



culture far too serious to suit some popular ideas and ideals 
which have been abroad and found lodgment in many minds. 
However, as Touchstone says of Andrey: if "ill-favored, it 
is still mine own, and I cannot forswear it." 

When I come now to apply my own ideas and ideals of 
social culture to my definition of culture itself, I find the two 
to be, substantially, interchangeable terms. For, if the sym- 
metrical development of each faculty, with which a human 
nature is endowed, for the puporses of living, be essential to 
a true culture, what, when we come to consider the de- 
mands of society upon us — the demands of the you upon the 
rue, the you being all, individual by individual, group by 
group, which make up my social environment — what item of 
this preparation for the purposes of living, can be spared from 
a true idea of social culture, as well ? If culture has to do 
as sine qua non with the purposes of living, what purpose is 
left to living when the You-and-I is excluded ? 

Between that concretest You which means the Thou of 
inner heart and central soul, to that abstractest You which 
means all the world of " other people " whom we only brush 
in passing, the whole concentrated volume of purpose in living 
is included. Outside of these two extremes, living which is 
life, is not. Separate this comprehensive You from the I, 
and what is left? A lonely Ego and an isolated God; the Ego 
lonely with loneliness which is barrenness; a God isolated 
with an isolation which is abandonment of His creature. For 
such must be the God conceived by his creature outside of the 
conditions which He has ordained for that creature's develop- 
ment. God has no relation to man which excludes the You- 
and-I. He has subjected human creatures to the discipline of 
human life under the conditions of social life. It is His 
purpose. 



14 



INTRODUCTION. 



Social culture is, then, a synonym for all culture. Its 
achievement is a preparation for the fulfillment of the pur- 
poses of life; it is the raison cP etre of all existence; it is the 
purpose of God. How is it to be achieved? 

The extremes which bound an answer to that question 
range in topics all the way from a theological treatise to a 
disquisition on manners. Its consideration embraces all 
themes. All that contributes to make the attitude of the 
individual right toward God, contributes to make that attitude 
right toward man. All that goes toward the acuter develop- 
ment of my moral sense, makes the responsibility of my 
neighbor for the development of his moral sense the greater. 
All that pours wealth into my mind and enriches my thought 
must add to your resources, whoever you be, who have rela- 
tion to me. If my demeanor is refined and graceful, your 
manners must be the better for it. Whatever shapes and 
moulds me must impress you, whether as with the perforating 
force of the pebble's blow which cuts from surface to the 
profoundest depth of the liquid lake it strikes, or whether as 
with the faintest undiscerned impulsion which ripples remotest 
from that pebble's impact. 

I have affirmed it as my belief that the range of topics to 
be treated legitimately under the head of social culture — 
which I regard as the generic term — runs all the way from 
theology to etiquette, inclusive. I wish to emphasize the 
inclusive. 

The last word has not yet been said on the subject of man- 
ners. Much has been said, but, after all, the wide-spread 
impression is, I fear, that this belongs rather to the depart- 
ment of the dancing-master than to that of the theologian, I 
hope the essay which, in this volume, shall follow my prefac- 
ing words, will demonstrate what I can only suggest as a 
problem, that there is a third which connects indissolubly these 



INTRODUCTION. 15 • 

two extremes, the study and teaching of morals, and the 
study and teaching of manners, and which sums up both in 
itself as their great inclusive outcome — cause and effect, 
in one, of all developments and cultivations — social culture. 

Doubtless the best teaching on the subject of manners goes 
to show that all good manners are but the outcome of good 
character. This is a most incontestable truth, but its enforce- 
ment has frequently resulted in very bad manners. This 
baffling result can only be understood by a realization that 
another truth, equally important, though in a subordi- 
nate sense, has perhaps been ignored; I mean the truth that 
manners have to do with character as a cause as well as an 
effect. From within to without, yes; and from without to 
within, as well. In this sensitive solution of all circumstance 
and influence which constitutes our social environment, all 
elements conspire, acting and re-acting, and the surface 
stratum cannot be ignored. Perhaps last, possibly least, but 
absolutely essential. The whole cannot spare any part; the 
centre cannot ignore the circumference. 

It should be understood that as morals act on manners, so 
manners re-act on morals. As it is necessary that good 
morals must be cultivated in order to attain to good manners, so 
it is worth while that good manners shall be cultivated for the 
sake of the good morals into which they may grow. The 
old proverb, " Handsome is that handsome does,' 1 which we 
have heard so much in our childhood, has a far deeper and 
subtler meaning than either children or parents give it. 
Paraphrased to its last word, it says all that the moral teach- 
er would say. It says to us not only its old current teaching, 
as childishly understood by parent as by child, " Let your 
behavior be beautiful to others if you would seem beautiful 
to others," but it says, also, " Let your behavior be beautiful 
that it may make you beautiful to yourself." Handsome 



16 



IN TROD UCTION. 



doing strikes in; the blossom has a stem, and, in good time> 
this slip of conduct will strike roots down into character. 

I would as soon wager that, of two strangers, the one sworn 
to have good manners will also have good character, as that 
the one sworn to have good character will have, therefore, 
good manners. A man or a woman who achieves truly good 
manners takes much trouble to do so. It may be true to say 
that good manners are simply a matter of habit, and, by con- 
stant practice, become second nature. All the same, good 
manners are good habits, and good habits imply the pains- 
taking correction of bad habits. Second nature is always the 
nature that is second, not first; and the first nature is the 
tyrant; a tyrant undying, almost unsleeping. Unselfish and 
gracious demeanor toward others may be the easy habit of full- 
dress and evening company, but it is not the easy habit of all 
day long, and the family circle. It is no one's first nature to 
choose another's comfort rather than one's own. If this is 
done " naturally " it comes of the second nature, not the first. 
The natural man does not instinctively relinquish his own easy 
chair if another is not procurable. The question will always 
arise — Why shall I do this? The mind works before the 
body. When a gracious action is performed, though in so 
small a matter (if small !) as the resignation of a comfortable 
seat, motives must be conscious or semi-conscious; the 
reason is called for, and when an action requires a reason for 
its performance, that action at once acquires character, and 
becomes a reasonable as well as a gracious performance. The 
performer's reason for his performance may, or may not, be a 
good one. In the case of the easy chair, it may be, in nine 
times out of ten, that he is observed, and that if he does not dis- 
turb himself, he will be deemed a boor. But once out of ten 
times, the same circumstances, minus the spectators, will occur. 
The habit of former evacuation of my comfortable chair, will 



IN TROD UCTION. 



17 



suggest one now. Again, I ask — Why, since I am so at ease, 
and no one observes? The very question itself throws before 
mv consciousness the existence of motives, and again the 
mind works. Whether the feet do or not, I am become con- 
scious of a responsibility lodged above the plane of feet. A 
debate takes place in the mind and leaves me, according to the 
event, with more self-respect or more self-disgust. In either 
case the plane of morals is reached. 

Suppose, now, I am the one observer of this event, that is, 
of the chair relinquished gracefully to the one more needing 
its comfort, or kept in disregard of that one's needs. I 
observe the event minus the mental debate; I can see only 
the outside action, that which takes place on the plane of the 
feet; but in the seeing, casual or studious, I receive an impres- 
sion of decorum or deformity in demeanor, and am thereby 
stimulated to the one or the other in my own case; the You- 
axd-I-xess is inseparable. Another's surface action has thrown 
a pebble from the plane of manners into my consciousness 
which, however faint, awakes a ripple upon the liquid plane of 
my morals. 

When will the importance of manners, for themselves alone 

— if they could be, or anything could be for themselves alone 

— be rightly estimated? And, alas! when will their import- 
ance as links in the chain which connects the You with the I, 
and the You-and-I with God, be rightly estimated? 

Like all good books, this book is suggestive rather than 
exhaustive. The best books finish nothing. The best readers 
are those who read to the last page, but reach " The End " 
only in their own cogitations. 

We all have need to think much upon the themes sug- 
gested in the following pages. Of such books there are none 
too many. Every page, wherever found, which serves to 



18 



IN TR OB UC TION. 



make clearer the mutualities of life, is a golden page. Every 
line which goes to emphasize that pregnant, all-significant 
truth that tk Xo man liveth to himself and no man dieth to 
himself " contributes pressure to the upward leverage of the 
human race. Everything which tends to couple more and 
more the You to the I conspires toward a culture which ful- 
fils the purposes of living and achieves the will of God towards 
man. 

The parts always make up the whole. Culture is many- 
sided and no one side can be ignored. Cultivations in many 
directions must conspire to produce that symmetry of devel- 
opment which lacks nothing of the moral or intellectual or 
social to rightly proportion the egoism with the altruism of 
living — to rightly relate the You to the I. For, upon 
this right relation of You- and -I " hang all the law and the 
prophets " of culture. 




INTELLECTUAL CULTURE. 

BY 

RT. REV. SAMUEL FALLOWS, D. Z>. 5 L.L. D 




pi 



HERE is no subject, perhaps, 
more trite than that of education. 
It has always been the topic of 
common-place utterance for more 
than a thousand years. Libraries 
have been crowded with volumes 
written upon it. But although com- 
mon-place as sunlight or air, it is yet 
fresh as the morning and virginal as the human soul. Old as 
the first man, it is as new " as the last born infant, whose wail, 
falling on the mother's ear, implores her tender care and train- 
ing." The ablest minds of every nation have thoughtfully 
pondered the great theme. The Egyptian priest bent his con- 
templation to it while " instructing the children of the favored 
caste, or inscribing the mystic lore of his nation on the column 
and obelisk for an eternal remembrance.' ' 

The Grecian scholar meditated upon it while leading out 
the minds of eager, enthusiastic disciples, beneath the olive 
grove of the academy, — 

" Plato's retirement where the attic bird 
Trilled her thick warbled notes the summer long." 
19 



20 



YOU AXD I. 



The Roman rhetorician reflected upon it, teaching in the 
schools the precepts of his art, and with them the knowledge 
of his times. It filled the thoughts of the monk of the middle 
ages, as he trained his choir, or illuminated his missals. It 
was preached by the clergy of the modern world, after the 
darkness resting upon portions of those mediaeval times had 
passed away. It is, to-day, the inspiration of the largest and 
most influential gatherings of cultivated men and women to be 
found upon the continent. 

I am restricted by my subject to intellectual education. 
Distinguished writers for this timely book have elsewhere 
treated upon the various phases of moral and religious culture. 
In reality, however, there can be no fundamental separation 
between these different divisions of education. There can be 
no act of the intellect without emotion. Feeling is the natural 
and reliable prompter of the will, — an affection or emotion 
being always the necessary preliminary to volition. Hence 
the parent, or teacher standing in the parent's place, must be 
a moral as well as an intellectual instructor. Even in the 
schools, where religious teaching may be excluded, the purest 
intellectual subjects can and ought to be taught in a moral or 
religious spirit. 

Men who are entitled to an attentive hearing have given us 
their views on this great subject of education. Locke says : 
" I think I may say that of all the men we meet with, nine 
parts out of ten are what they are, good or evil, useful or not, 
by their education.'" The estimate of this renowned philoso- 
pher is doubtless correct. The poet Pope, in his well known 
and often quoted couplet, states substantially the same truth: 

"'Tis education forms the common mind; 
Just as the twig is bent, the tree 's inclined.'* 



Lord Bacon also agrees with it when he says: " Custom is 



INTELLECTUAL CULTURE. 



21 



most perfect when it beginneth in young years; this we call 
education, which is, in effect, but an early custom." 

When we ask, "What constitutes a right education?" we 
find an answer in the language of Milton: "I call that a com- 
plete education which fits a man to perform justly, skillfully 
and magnanimously all the offices, both private and public, of 
peace and war." In a comprehensive and admirable manner, 
Herbert Spencer meets the question. " The education 
required for the people is that which will give them the full 
command of every faculty, both of mind and body; which 
will call into play their powers of observation and reflection; 
which will make thinking and reasonable beings of the mere 
creatures of impulse, prejudice and passion; that which, in a 
moral sense, will give them objects of pursuit and habits of 
conduct favorable to their own happiness and to that of the 
community of which they form a part." And along with this 
succinct summing up of the subject, may be put the statement 
of John Stuart Mill: "The very corner stone of education 
must be the recognition of the principle that the object is to 
call forth the greatest quantity of intellectual power, and to 
inspire the intensest love of the truth." 

To whom shall the great work of education be first entrusted ? 
Most evidently to woman. The early part of a child's life, for 
shaping and guiding, is given to her. It is the mother on 
whom the precious responsibility is laid. If she, for any 
reason, is unable to fulfil her duty, then to some other woman 
is the important charge to be intrusted. As the earliest im- 
pressions are the most lasting, the first years of a child's life 
are those in which the character is largely formed. The 
home education precedes the education of the school, and the 
education of the world with its innumerable teachers and 
lessons. Mothers are the natural, heaven-ordained, primary 
teachers of the race. The new education, based so completely 



22 



YOU AND I. 



on the nature of the child and its requirements for develop- 
ment, makes its earnest appeal to them to seek the knowledge 
of the means and methods by which, with the divinely im- 
planted instinct of love in their hearts, they may worthily 
guide their children's feet into wisdom's paths. 

Pestalozzi, one of the most honored pioneers of reform in 
education, was the first in history to call distinctively upon 
mothers to help intelligently and systematically in the work of 
childhood instruction. He said: " I will make education the 
basis of the common moral character of the people, and will 
put the education of the people in the hands of the mothers. 7 ' 
And so he gave the world the book for mothers, or "How- 
Gertrude Teaches Her Children" a work full of practical 
helpfulness and rich suggestiveness. Froebel followed him, 
and with profound philosophical insight taught that children,, 
in their education, must pass through the same stages of 
development, on a small scale, that have marked the develop- 
ment of the human race. They must pass from the concrete 
to the abstract. Their powers must be unfolded according to 
law. The process must be a gradual and methodical one. 
Through sensation, perception, observation, attention, expres- 
sion and reflection, they must reach the maturity of their being. 

The -perceptive faculties are the first in the order of nature 
and of time to be exercised. The child coming into this 
world begins its life with the display of this power of sensation. 
In a short period it perceives and discriminates and distin- 
guishes the objects about it. 

We do not realize how early a child first receives impres- 
sions from the persons, circumstances and things surrounding 
him. He does not come into the world, as some philosophers 
have held, with a mind like a blank sheet of white paper, on 
which we may write whatever we choose, but with a mind 
written all over with secret characters, which need the contact 



INTELLECTUAL CULTURE. 



23 



and influences of the outer world, like invisible writing held 
before the flame, to make what is written start into legibility 
and significance. The figure of the invisible writing brought 
out by means of fire, is not entirely correct, for what has been 
written upon the mind by the creator, in the form of powers, 
faculties, susceptibilities, nascent ideas, and the like, are greatly 
modified or shaped or determined by the outward educational 
or drawing out process. If it is asserted that there is nothing 
in the intellect which was not first in the senses, it is equally 
true that there can be nothing in the senses which was not first 
in the intellect. The paradox may be explained, in part, by 
saying that through the gateway of the senses must enter in the 
impressions and influences which are to furnish knowledge for 
the mind, but it is the mind itself which causes the gates to 
stand ajar, or throws them wide open for such impressions to 
enter in. It is the mind that works up the impressions into 
knowledge. The mind of the child, as I have said, begins 
unconsciously to act from the very moment of birth. Imme- 
diately, the environment with which it is encompassed exerts 
an influence upon it. The first grasp of the child is probably 
the earliest sign of awakening intelligence. By the time it is 
a year old, it has come into possession of important knowledge. 
It has already learned something of shape, size, material, 
form and color. 

The work of education, then, must begin at the beginning. 
The stretching out of the hand for objects, is the child's in- 
stinctive expression of its needs to learn something, first of all, 
of space and distance. What can be more foolish than to 
keep objects out of the reach of the child, when these are the 
very things needed to give it the primal impressions it must 
receive. 

Sensation has begun its work, and through it the child's 
-perceptions must be trained and increased. 



24: 



YOU AND I. 



The mother must now begin the teacher's vocation. Let 
objects of different material be grasped by the infantile fingers, 
also objects of the same material, of different sizes and forms. 
Even at this early stage, let the blocks of different geometrical 
forms come within the reach of the little grasping hands. 
Let the soft woolen balls of bright red and yellow and blue, 
the three primary colors, come within the reach both of the eye 
and the hand. The power of observation, upon which -perception 
depends, is thus being trained. The world will gradually and 
continually unfold to this observing faculty. He who has not 
been trained to use it, will go through life scarcely seeing any- 
thing about him. He who has been taught to keep his eyes 
open, to retain a lawful, vigilant curiosity, will find new facts and 
truths meeting him at every step he takes. New knowledge 
will be perpetually coming to him, and new pleasures will ever 
multiply upon him. The world of nature is the great store- 
house from which the objects are to be taken to meet the 
child's observation and to gratify its curiosity. The explana- 
tion of the different geometrical forms must be given when the 
child is able to understand them. The names of the primary 
colors must be taught him. The different combinations of color 
growing out of these three primary colors must be made known 
to him. His own hands must be taught to make the com- 
binations. 

From his blocks, which contain the primary geometrical 
figures, he must be taught how to produce all their varied 
forms, and be shown that, on these few fundamental figures, 
the whole universe is built up. 

Instead of bringing the child a multitude of toys which only 
confuse its ideas and produce thus early the feeling of satiety, 
a few carefully selected ones should be purchased, from which 
clear, distinct impressions of beauty or utility can be gained 
by him. 



INTELLECTUAL CUL TUHE. 



25 



The mother should early begin to form a cabinet of pebbles, 
stones and minerals, no matter how common they may be. 
How eagerly does the child stop to pick up these common 
stones in the street, and how often is it thoughtlessly checked 
in so doing ! How many scoldings have been given it for soil- 
ing its hands and clothes in its exercise of this foundation 
faculty of observation! Let the mother, instead of checking 
it, take the child's treasures home, sort them out, put them in 
the cabinet and teach the little one their names and the part 
the substances of which they are the representatives play in 
the welfare of mankind. Mr. Josiah Holbrook, that prince of 
teachers, was accustomed to go into the schools under his 
care, having picked up a plant or a weed or a stone by the 
wayside, and make it one of the most charming, instructive 
and stimulating of subjects to the scholars. Thus he would 
take a little piece of granite, and by a few simple but 
skillfully-put questions, would create an earnest desire in his 
young audience to be permitted to look more closely at the 
object. He would then hand it to them and have it passed 
from one to another. With eager, childish delight this would 
be done. " Now," he would say, "I will spell granite, — 
g-r-a-n-i-t-e. Is that correct?" " Yes," would be the reply in 
chorus. "But, then," he would continue, "that is not the 
true way to spell it." A look of astonishment would be on 
the faces of his juvenile auditors. " No, the true way to spell 
it, is mica, quartz and feldspar" And then he would show 
them how there were three substances in the one little frag- 
ment. Such a lesson was never forgotten. Every child 
became, at once, an explorer in the realms of nature for himself. 
The child should be taught the names of flowers and plants, 
and be led to see that even the commonest weeds are con- 
structed upon a plan of exquisite beauty. The study of 
geography can be begun by a knowledge of the small portion 



26 



YOU AXD I. 



of the earth's surface comprised in the garden, or even in the 
contracted city yard. The points of the compass, the idea of 
boundaries, and of the different productions of the various 
countries of the globe, can soon be mastered. 

The rudiments of geology, chemistry, botany, natural phil- 
osophy, mechanics, astronomy, and kindred studies, can be 
taught through a lump of coal, a grain of salt, a few flowers, 
the sparkling dew-drop, the sunbeam, the peal of thunder, the 
lightning's flash, the shifting clouds, the starry heavens. Be- 
fore the child has reached seven years, and before it has 
learned to read (and I would not have the average child learn 
its letters before six years of age), it can be furnished, without 
any straining of its powers, by a process of mental absorption 
almost as natural as the act of breathing, with the knowledge 
that many an adult, making considerable pretensions to an 
education, acquired by the old system of learning words in- 
stead of things, would be proud to possess. 

The accuracy of observation depends upon attention, hence 
the child must be trained to take particular notice of the 
object coming before it. Attention is the key which unlocks 
all the gates of knowledge and secures an entrance into every 
realm of fact and truth. It must be secured without any 
forced or unnatural mental tension. The mind must not be 
allowed to grow wear}' in contemplating any given thing, but 
what it sees it must see closely and accurately. As the mind 
develops, the attention will become prompt, earnest, close and 
continuous. 

The power of expression follows that of perception. In 
our views of education, we have too often limited the mean- 
ing of expression to the use of language alone, while it should 
include everything by which the mind can give utterance to 
the knowledge it possesses, or is striving to acquire. Hence, 
as in kindergarten instruction, the hands should be employed 



INTELLECTUAL CULTURE. 



27 



in every conceivable way, as in planting, weaving, moulding 
clay, drawing, and the like. Language, of course, is the 
chief means of expression, and thus of communication. It 
should be taught, not at the first, by compelling the child to 
learn the rules of grammar and composition, but in such a 
way that the rules will be readily seen to grow out of what 
has been first expressed by the child. All the rules in the 
world committed to memory will not make a child a good 
speller, or reader, or speaker. He must be taught at home, 
first of all, to speak distinctly and grammatically. I do not 
think it necessary, to accomplish this, that the nonsensical but 
delightful baby talk should not be indulged in, during the 
period of babyhood. I once knew a father, who was also a 
teacher, who laid down the rule that there should be no baby 
talk to his children. At a very early age, they were the most 
painful pinks of propriety I ever wish to see. The loving 
hearts of a wise father, and mother will not be deprived of 
talking to the little one in a way that would not be appropri- 
ate before a National Teacher's Convention or a Sorosis Club. 
But when the child can begin to frame sentences, it must be 
taught to articulate clearly and distinctly, pronounce accu- 
rately, and to use the right pronouns, cases, moods and tenses. 
The home, I repeat, is the place where this all important edu- 
cation must begin. 

I heard once, in my college days, a very eloquent speaker on 
a popular subject, but very ungrammatical withal, who, ob- 
serving the smile on the faces of the students at some viola- 
tion of the laws of grammar, suddenly stopped, and said, 
u Young gentlemen, I see } T ou are smiling at the grammatical 
blunders I am making. I will now make a challenge to you 
all. I will undertake to compete with any one of you in 
repeating every rule of Lindley Murray's grammar. Will 
you accept it ? " There was no answer. He then continued,, 



28 



YOU AND I. 



" I know every rule in that grammar by heart, but I was never 
taught at home to speak correctly. I have never had the 
advantage of school instruction, and hence did not correct my 
errors in youth; and now, although I know all about the 
grammar theoretically, I am breaking its rules in practice 
continually. Learn to use your grammar, my young friends, 
while you are young, in the proper way, and when you grow 
to be as old as I am, you will not misuse it as I now do.'' 

The foundations of correct emphasis, modulation, inflection, 
purity of tone, must all be laid in earliest youth. The mother 
ought to be the first, wise master-builder. 

While the faculties of perception and expression have been 
in training, the reflective powers have been gradually develop- 
ing. Memory has been retaining in its grasp the elements of 
knowledge, which are, at once, the rudiments of intellectual 
life, the springs of mental action, and the material of thought. 
" It is the chain which links the past to the present, and retains 
every acquisition as a foothold for the next step forward in 
the processes of reason and the investigation of truth." It is 
memory which largely constitutes man a reflective being, 
prompting to thought, inviting to meditation, cherishing con- 
templation, and thus leading to that earnest consideration on 
which reason depends. It must be judicionsly cultivated and 
developed. In the impressible mind must be stored gems of 
thought and wisdom. Choice quotations in prose and poetry, 
especially the latter, should early be learned by heart, and 
thus a correct taste be formed. The actual study of objects, 
facts and relations, instead of the mere records of knowledge^ 
must be cultivated, that there may be a living, intelligent 
memory, and not a verbal and mechanical one. 

In the study of arithmetic, principles, and not, so much, rules, 
should be committed to memory, although when the principles 
are comprehended, the memorizing of rules is important and 



INTELLECTUAL CULTURE. 



29 



valuable. History should be taught and held in the memory, 
not as a bare record of detached facts, names, or dates of 
single important events, or striking incidents. There should 
be in the mind the names and the deeds of the prominent 
actors in the different ages of the world's history — and about 
them the other historic personages and events should gather. 
History ought to be thus taught more as biography, having 
the personal charm that centres in and proceeds from the hero 
of a story or romance. 

Here, again, the mother can be of signal service in the edu- 
cation of her child. She should gather in a scrap book the 
portraits of illustrious men, as authors, statesmen, warriors, 
musicians, artists, and the like. Arranging them in the 
sequence or contemporaneousness of their existence upon the 
earth, she can teach from them, by anecdote and incident, in a 
captivating manner, the rudiments of this noble and liberalizing 
study. 

Along with the development of the memory, the imaginative 
and reasoning faculties are being unfolded and disciplined. 
The school takes up and continues the work of education, 
until the child, emerging from youth into manhood, is ready 
for the practical duties of an honorable life. 




PHYSICAL CULTURE. 



BY 



PROF. E. B. WARM AN. 

"Holier than any temple of wood or stone, consecrated for divine right, and 
moral purposes, is the human body." 




HYSICAL health and strength are so neces- 
sary to happiness and success in life that it is 
not surprising to find that the subject of phys- 
ical development has engaged the attention of 
many writers, and of many of our institutions of 
learning; yet the practical benefit to the general 
public, from all that has been written on the sub- 
ject, seems to be inconsiderable. This must be the 
result of one of two causes: either the various 
modes of exercise have not been placed before the public in 
such a way as to make them practical, or such modes as have 
been given have only been adopted to be abused, and have 
only served to increase the prejudice of the public against 
manly sports. There is not an art, science or religion that 
cannot be abused, and shall we, then, condemn them all? 
Shall we not, rather, seek to discover the truth in each of 

30 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 



31 



them, and thus be enabled to pursue that course which will 
lead us to a high, noble, grand manhood and womanhood? 

The primary object of physical training is health and phys- 
sical development; the secondary object is to attain to an 
easy and graceful carriage of the body. No person, weak in 
body and feeble in health, can appear to advantage on the 
rostrum, in public places, or in the social circle. While phys- 
ical development should be sought as a means of health, 
which is the most important object, it is also a duty we owe 
to our homes, our friends and society that we shall cultivate 
those faculties which sweeten the disposition and render us 
most agreeable to those around us. 

It is seldom we see a weak, dyspeptic person with an ami- 
able or enviable disposition, while it is rarely that we see one 
of a strong physical frame whose presence and disposition are 
not the delight of his home. When we consider how many 
homes are made happier, and how many faces are made 
brighter through the study and practice of physical training, 
should we not consider this one of the leading branches of an 
early education? A uniform development is necessary — one 
part of the- body should not be developed at the expense of 
another. No teacher should lay claim to proficiency, and no 
book to completeness, that disregard this theory. We find, 
even among trained gymnasts, a great deal of abnormal devel- 
opment. Did you ever ask a man to show you his muscle? 
If you did, what muscle? You did not specify an}' particular 
muscle, yet you asked him in the singular, indicating thereby 
that he had but one. In answer to the question, nine times 
out of ten, he will pull up his sleeve and show you his biceps. 
Is that the criterion of strength? No, not even for the arm 
for all purposes. It is often the criterion of weakness else- 
where, especially if over-developed. It is a test of strength in 
pulling or lifting, but such a development will not materially 



32 



YOU AND I. 



aid one in striking a powerful blow, for the development of the 
triceps — the one under the biceps, which is used in striking 
or pushing — may have been neglected. 

To satisfy yourself concerning the development of these 
muscles, push against some solid substance with your right 
arm, the palm of the hand resting against the object; then feel 
the upper portion of your arm, back and front, with your left 
hand, and you will readily percerve that the fore part of the 
upper arm — biceps — shows no special development, while 
the back part — triceps — is quite solid. Reverse the exercise 
by pulling some heavy object toward you, or raising a heavy 
weight from the floor, by bending your arm at the elbow, and 
by feeling with your left hand, you will at once find that the 
muscles in the fore part of the upper arm immediately rise and 
fill out, while the back part — the triceps — becomes nearly 
level. We state this merely to show the tendency to irregular 
development. As well might a parent educate and develop 
the taste for music in a daughter, without giving her those 
other accomplishments which are necessary to her success in 
the world. We can imagine to what an extent the life of a 
perfect musician would be a failure, who had no other knowl- 
edge, no other accomplishments. Yet, as well might we 
develop one of the mental faculties as one of the physical. An 
expert musician should possess other accomplishments. An 
expert rower should be an expert boxer, and thus equalize the 
development and consequent strength of his arm. What ! is 
boxing manly? Yes, when a man boxes. Anything that a 
man does is manly; anything that a woman does is womanly. 
Next to God himself, there is nothing grander than a manly 
man and womanly woman. There are many who regard 
boxing as brutal; it is — when vou make it so. So is rifle 
practice; so is sabre exercise; so is anything that is abused. 
Because you are handy with the gloves, there is no more 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 



danger of your entering the prize-ring or developing a disposi- 
tion to pommel everybody, than being an expert with the rifle 
or saber will develop a disposition in you to go around and 
shoot or slice up your neighbors. There is an old and fam- 
iliar quotation which says, " It is glorious to possess a giant's 
strength, but cowardly to use it as a giant. 11 Let the poor, 
hollow-chested, ill-tempered, dyspeptic grumbler against manly 
sports come out of his little den, doff his coat and vest, drink 
freely of the pure air which the Almighty has so plentifully 
provided, and then let him throw the ball, or use the dumb- 
bells, or tug at the oar, and he will go back to that self-same 
den and acknowledge to the world through the silent but 
powerful influence of his pen that he was wrong in attacking 
the thing itself, when his blow should have been levelled at its 
misapplication or abuse. We exclaim with Dr. Foss, " Let 
these things be done with the distinct recognition that we 
have a manly nature, and with such a manly measure as to 
do no harm to what is best and noblest in this loftier realm." 

We have spoken of health of body and carriage of the body 
as distinct aims of physical training; but we must not stop 
there, for it' is threefold in its mission; it will give to us what 
the old Latin poet prayed for, a sound mind in a sound body. 
Many of the colleges of our country are supplied with gymna- 
siums which often prove a detriment rather than an advantage, 
from the fact that so many of them have no competent in- 
structors and the pupil is allowed to choose his own exercise, 
and he is very apt to practice those exercises which to him 
are the most pleasurable, and consequently he will either 
overdo in the first few weeks and then cease altogether, or 
will exercise only spasmodically, either of which is hurtfuL 
Possibly, he may continue to exercise daily, but will onlv take 
such exercise as is to him most amusing, thereby developing 
one set of muscles at the expense of the others. 



34 



YOU AND I. 



All these things need proper care to produce beneficial 
results; they should be regular, but never violent. Physical 
exercise in order to be strengthening need not necessarily be 
fatiguing or exhausting; such exercise is, on the contrary, 
debilitating. 

We would prescribe a course of exercise in our schools and 
colleges that would be as obligatory as any part of the regular 
curriculum. The teacher should be genius enough to make his 
pupils enthusiastic, so that exercise might cease to be looked 
upon as an obligation, but considered a pleasure. Neither would 
we excuse the ladies from these exercises. The demands of 
the physical nature are in every way equal to the demands of 
the mental; if too much attention is given to the physical 
development and the mental is neglected, the brain will become 
correspondingly weak in its functions. The same rule applies 
to the undue exercise of the mental faculties at the expense of 
the physical; it draws the much needed blood of the body to 
supply the brain. Brain work is much more exhausting than 
hand work. Dr. Hall says: " The farmer can work from 
morning till night, from one week's end to another, and thrive 
on it, while the brain worker can not profitably labor more 
than six hours out of the twenty-four." The most voluminous 
and literary men of all times did not spend to exceed four or 
five hours per day at their desks, having found this the limit 
of their endurance and pleasurable labor. The body also 
needs the utmost care as it is the sacred temple for the in- 
dwelling of the soul. Do our young men and young ladies 
so regard it when they are getting an education? An educa- 
tion of what ? Simply of the mind, while the body is neglected, 
and this process goes on till it has sapped the very life from 
the foundation of the mind. How many weak, debilitated, 
half -alive men and women are knocking at the doors of our 
halls of learning asking admittance ; it would be just as reason- 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 



35 



able to adorn a tumble-down shanty with a mansard roof, as 
a physical wreck with an accomplished education. Stand 
before an institution of learning and watch the young men as 
they march from the building and pass down the street, and 
you will find them with heads that seem running away with 
their bodies, not because the heads are so large but because 
the bodies are so small. Some wit has said that if you want 
a fair representative of the average student who neglects phys- 
ical exercise, just put a large, round doughnut upon a hair-pin. 
Alternate mental effort with some pleasant physical pastime. 
There is no one in any occupation who can not find an oppor- 
tunity sometime between the hours of rising and retiring for 
at least a few moments exercise. When the brain is over- 
tasked, do something to draw the blood to other portions of 
the body ; there is nothing gained by too steady mental appli- 
cation. If the mind feels the need of rest, nature demands it, 
and unless one yields to the demand he will only lose time in 
trying to collect and concentrate his thoughts. A change in 
the line of thought is also essential, for endless monotony will 
wear away the fibres of the brain. The human body is like 
an engine; it will stand a good deal of wear and tear with 
little attention, but with proper care these bodies of ours may be 
so strengthened and our minds so disciplined that we may live 
the time allotted to man — " three score years and ten, and if 
by reason of strength, they may be four score, etc.," thereby 
admitting that they may be four score, if by reason of strength. 
Such we believe to be the purpose of the All-wise concerning 
every healthful child. How important then that parents and 
teachers see to the proper physical training of the children, 
that they may all reach that good old age. Volumes have 
been written on early moral and social training of the children; 
the mother will go out of her way to avoid any disagreeable 
sight that may injuriously affect the morals and manners of 



3(5 YOU AND I. 

her child, but how many mothers are there who have ever 
thought or taken into consideration the physical training of 
their little ones. How much more susceptible to moral and 
mental culture is a strong, healthy child than a weak, sickly one. 

Many of the pupils of the writer will recall what he has so 
often said to them concerning his belief as to his own future, 
i. e., that he fully expects to live to be one hundred years old, 
and he does not intend to be in any one^s way either. Such 
is his earnest belief. For if " by reason of strength ,7 it may 
be four score years, then by reason of more strength and 
proper care it may be five score. What we sow we shall 
reap. Is there no need of being sick? No. Not for a healthy 
child; he should pass through youth and manhood and old age 
and not know an ache or pain, unless it be the result of some 
accident, and when he does go to the beautiful beyond, the 
house in which he has lived so long simply crumbles to the 
dust, having served its purpose, and the spirit takes its flight. 
Is the writer never sick? He has been, but it was when he 
violated some law of nature. Every ache or pain he has ever 
had has been traceable to some carelessness on his part; but 
his physician is diet and exercise. But some may consider 
the question, asking if we do not think sickness is providential?' 
No, a thousand times, no. We have no doubt that it greatly 
displeases the Almighty when He beholds the weakness and 
folly of His children. He may suffer it, but we most emphat- 
ically say we do not believe He wills it. Were it so, it would 
be a rebellion against Him to take medicine for restoration, 
and every physician would be an enemy to His divine will. 
Horace Mann, in his address as president of Antioch College 
in 1853, said: "I hold it to be morally impossible for God to 
have created, in the beginning, such men and women as we 
find the human race in their physical condition now to be. ,v 
Examine the book of Genesis, which contains the earliest 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 



37 



annals of human history. With child-like simplicity this book 
describes the infancy of mankind; unlike modern history, it 
details the minutest circumstances of the social and religious 
life; indeed, it is rather a series of biographies than history. 
The false delicacy of modern times did not forbid the mention 
of whatever was done or suffered, and }*et over all that 
expanse of time, more than a third part of the duration of the 
human race, not a single instance is recorded of a child born 
blind or deaf or dumb or idiotic or mal-formed in any way; 
during the whole period not a single case of natural death 
in infancy or childhood or early manhood or even in middle 
manhood is to be found. Not one man or woman died of dis- 
ease. The simple record is "and he died; " or " and he died 
in a good old age and full of years; " or " he was old and full 
of days." No epidemic or even endemic diseases prevailed, 
showing that they died the natural death of healthy men 
and not the unnatural death of distempered ones. Through 
all this time — excepting the single case of Jacob in his old 
age and then only a day or two before his death — it does not 
appear that any man was ill or that any old lady, or young 
lady, ever fainted. Bodily pain from disease is nowhere men- 
tioned. No cholera infantum, scarlet fever or small-pox; no, 
not even tooth-ache. So extraordinary a thing was it for a 
son to die before his father that an instance of it is deemed 
worthy of special notice, and this first case of the reversal of 
nature's law was two thousand years after the creation of 
Adam. See how this reversal of nature's law, for us, has 
become the law; for how rare is it now for all the children of 
the family to survive the parents. Rachel died at the birth of 
Benjamin, but this the only case of puerperal death that hap- 
pened in the first 2,400 years of sacred history, and even this 
happened during the fatigues of a patriarchal journey when 
passengers were not wafted along in the salons of a railroad 



88 



YOU AXD I. 



car or steamboat. Had Adam, think you, tuberculous lungs?' 
Was Eve flat chested, or did she cultivate the serpentine line 
of grace in a curved spine? Did Nimrod get up in the morn- 
ing with a furred tongue, or was he tormented with dyspep- 
sia? Had Esau the gout or hepatitis} Imagine how the 
tough old patriarchs would have looked if asked to sub- 
scribe for a lying-in hospital or an asylum for lunatics or an 
eye or ear infirmary or a school for deaf mutes. What would 
their eagle vision and swift-footedness have said to the project 
of a blind asylum or an orthopedic establishment? Did they 
suffer any of these revenges of nature against a false civiliza- 
tion? No; man came from the hand of God so perfect in 
his bodily organs, so defiant of cold and heat, of drought and 
humidity, so surcharged with vital fires, that it took 2,400 
years of the abominations of appetite and ignorance, it took 
successive ages of outrages, excess and debauchery, to drain 
off his electric energies and make him even susceptible of dis- 
ease. And then it took ages more to breed all these vital dis- 
tempers which now nestle like vermin in every fiber of our 
bodies. During all this time, however, the fatal causes were 
at work which wore away and finally exhausted the glorious 
and abounding vigor of the pristine race. So numerous have 
diseases now become that if we were to write down their 
names in the smallest imaginable hand on the smallest bits of 
paper, there would not be room enough on the human body ta 
place the labels. 

Let us start, as it were, in a new life, with a determination 
to fight these maladies that have settled upon us. Let us 
build up our lost health in every way that our reason may 
dictate ; let us have, at all times, a plentiful supply of fresh air, 
even in the coldest weather. A person may live for days 
without food; but deprive him of air, even for a few moments, 
and you deprive him of life itself. Breathe double ; very few 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 



89 



people do this as much as they should. As to general rules 
for dieting, clothing and bathing, all persons are more or less 
sufficiently informed; and there can be no rules laid down 
to meet individual cases. As to rules and instructions on 
physical training, we have not space to give them here, but 
little manuals can be purchased at any book store. Each one 
should be his own physician; read, observe, think, and then 
act. As for beauty, what is it ? Has physical exercise any- 
thing to do with it? In fact, there are no pretty men, though 
the term is often misapplied. Pretty applies to something on 
which we may feast the eyes. There are beautiful and hand- 
some men and women, but the character is one of the constit- 
uents. What is called a pretty man is nothing more than a 
suit of clothes, the latest fashion, passing down the street 
without anything in it. No man or woman may be termed 
really beautiful before the age of forty or forty-five years; 
there are few really handsome men and women. Young 
womanhood is beautiful in the soft, dreamy day-dawn of lov- 
liness, but she never reaches real beauty till womanhood has 
developed her body, mind and soul with touches of thought, 
feeling, love, care and grand resolves. The youth, just fledged 
as a professional man, must wait years until the lines of expe- 
rience, close thought, professional conflicts, business excitement, 
hopes blasted and hopes realized, have chiselled a few lines 
upon his face and brought the brilliancy of sobriety to his eye, 
then, if pure, he is beautiful. Let us strive, then, for bodily 
and mental development; let us develop the physical side by 
side with the mental, but never let one oppose the other. In 
this way each may be made consistent with the other, thereby 
producing our threefold aim, health of the body, health of the 
mind, and a graceful carriage of the body. These three, when 
attained, will give us s} 7 mmetrical development. We boast 
of freedom in this great land of ours, but we are all slaves: 



40 



YOU AND I. 



slaves to some pernicious, soul-destroying habit. Let us free 
ourselves from everything that impedes our progress towards 
our high ideal manhood or womanhood, of form and health, 
and have for our motto, hopefulness, helpfulness, healthfulness 
and happiness. 




THE EVILS OF MENTAL DISSIPATION. 



BY 



REV. A, S. ANDREWS, A. M. 3 £>.£>. 




^ IND is the great element in 
man, the intellectual lord of the 
temporary earthly temple. For 
its protection, nourishment and 
safety, the house of clay was con- 
structed; and providential repairs 
and occasional renovations are 
graciously continued for " three 
score and ten years," that the 
exalted spiritual occupant may re- 
main in health, and finally attain to 
full maturity. The relative excellency 
and grade of the mind may be inferred 
from the elegance and finish of its fleshy 
tenement. This wonderfully articulated 
and flexible casement, through the brain 
and nervous system, nourishes every 
faculty of the mind, until its earthly development and work 
are finished. For vears, mental growth consists mainly in an 
increasing acquaintance with material things. The nervous 
system, rooted in the brain and spinal marrow, furnishes a 

41 



42 



THE EVILS OF MENTAL DISSIPATION. 



double highway over which intercommunication and com- 
merce are constantly carried on between the mind and the 
outer world. Trains of reflection are coming and going each 
moment, and the storehouse of memory is filling up with the 
richest materials that the realm of matter affords. Through 
abstraction, comparison, judgment, understanding and reason, 
these materials are analyzed, classified, assorted and put away 
for future use. 

This well arranged and hoarded information becomes, 
in due time, the basis of fresh intellectual activity; and 
new conclusions are reached. The process is repeated 
upon a constantly increasing scale until the whole kingdom of 
physics is reached, studied and apprehended. Literature, 
science, art and philosophy spring into being. Discovery, 
progress and greatness ensue, and man becomes the master of 
all terrestrial things. He regains his lordship over the earth 
and its inferior inhabitants, and he calls into use all the con- 
tents of land and sea. Spring and summer, seed-time and 
harvest, day and night and heat and cold, are his agents, and 
minister to his wants. His life becomes elegant, new attrac- 
tions and fresh ornaments and graces are added to his person, 
his speech, his home, his furniture, his food, and his pleasures. 
Even before this stage of advancement has been reached, the 
mind takes cognizance of itself, and discovers in its own exis- 
tence a new world, teeming with objects of the deepest and 
most exalted interest. To name these, new words are needed, 
and old ones are employed in a higher sense. To enter and 
explore this spirit-land, and to clothe the objects encountered 
in suitable linguistic drapery, furnish fresh mental employment 
of an exalted and ennobling character. Nowhere else in 
this life does such a field open. It is an intellectual domain, 
whose territory is wide and whose resources are well-nigh 
infinite. It abounds in whole continents of intellectual being, 



YOU AND I. 



43 



whose forests, springs, rivers, bays and oceans of thought are 
rare and rich beyond all finite computation. Here 

Ce Everlasting spring abides, 
And never withering flowers." 

From dewy youth to green old age, new scenes and fresh 
beauties present themselves daily. It is a radiant, sunny land, 
where elect spirits walk and commune, explore and discover, 
arrange and classify their mental treasures. These immortal 
spirits, in their white robes, have an elysium, whose beauty, 
variety, brilliancy and happiness are surpassed only by the 
owners of that glorious inheritance which the infinite and 
munificent " Father of the spirits of all flesh : ' is constructing 
for his earthly children. In this high state of mental develop- 
ment and Christian civilization, men not only confer with each 
other in literature, art, learning and faith, but they rise from the 
contemplation of creation and providence to the apprehension 
of God, bare their heads in his presence, and fall down in awe 
and loyalty at his feet ! They are made in His image, see His 
wisdom, feel His power, and taste His goodness ! 

Thus gifted, and with such possibilities within his reach, what a 
wonderful being is man ! With the crown of intellectuality grac- 
ing his brow, and the likeness of God spreading through his 
heart, who can set bounds to his growth and power in this life, or 
who can measure his moral worth, or fully estimate his glory 
and felicity in that which is to come? Such a being was 
created for the presence of God and the society of angels- 
Would it not be a melancholy sight to behold an intellectual 
orb of such magnitude and brightness wandering and flickering 
in its orbit? Yet, how often is this depressing spectacle wit- 
nessed in our daily experience. 

A gentleman once put into the hands of a silversmith an elegant 
watch, which ran irregularly- It was a perfect piece of work- 



THE EVILS OF MENTAL DISSIPATION. 



manship. It was taken to pieces, examined and put together, 
again and again; no defect was discovered, and yet the 
irregularity continued. At last it occurred to the expe- 
rienced watchmaker that possibly the balance wheel might 
be influenced by a magnet, which retarded or quickened 
its movement, and in this way produced the irregular- 
ity. A needle was applied to it, and his suspicion was 
found to be true. The steel works in the other parts of 
the watch affected its motions. With a new balance wheel, 
the watch was a perfect time-piece. The human mind, despite 
its finished workmanship, rich materials and nice adjustment 
of all the parts to each other, often niDves irregularly. And 
m nearly all cases, the presence of some magnet may be 
suspected. Natural bias, a perverted taste, an intellectual 
habit, or wrong education, may have located, near the balance 
wheel of that mental being, some magnetic influence that dis- 
turbs its activities and makes its motions irregular and eccen- 
tric. When this has been done, the poise and stability of 
intellectual life have been disturbed, and mental dissipation 
begins. If regular habits of mind are interrupted, and disorder 
and confusion are permitted, no one can predict, with certainty, 
the mischief that may ensue. The mind itself is injured. 
The Creator has bestowed intellectual gifts upon man in an 
undeveloped state. No one came into being like the fabled 
Minerva, from the brain of Jupiter, in full maturity. Here, as 
in religious life, we have " first the blade, then the ear, after 
that the full corn in the ear." The development of the mind 
is slow, and never is great in the absence of labor. Ordinarily, 
mental growth and strength are in proportion to the labor 
performed. The petted child, that lives for years in its nurse's 
arms, remains helpless, while that one which is seemingly 
neglected, learns to walk, and at an early age becomes inde- 
pendent and self-reliant. The blacksmith's arm and the 



YOU AND I. 



45 



ditcher's back grow strong from vigorous exercise. The pilot 
sharpens his vision, and the musician improves his touch by 
constant practice. The same is true intellectually. The 
untried mind is weak, and never becomes athletic without 
exercise. 

If these statements are true, the human mind can never 
become strong without vigorous, regular and manly em- 
ployment. The dainty, tidy little intellect that never 
touches anything rough or heavy, is not remarkable for 
strength or boldness. Like the bright-winged insect that 
spends the few hours of its existence in the green meadows 
and gardens of spring, and tastes the honeyed juices in each 
clear flower cup, so the habitual reader of sonnets, fictions 
and pastoral poetry, is an intellectual moth, whose wings pos= 
sess no strength, and whose feet never touched the branches 
of forest trees or mountain summits. The great ox, that plows, 
his master's field and draws his rich harvests to the world's 
markets, is made strong by the hardships and drudgeries of 
his life. If men would shun the foibles, weaknesses and mis- 
eries of multitudes of those whom they see and whose condi- 
tion they ' deplore ; if they would become wise, And truth, 
hoard up knowledge, and grow great in all the attributes of 
exalted manhood, they must grapple with difficulties, vanquish 
foes, and plant their feet in triumph upon the highest moun- 
tains of faith and successful investigation. 

When, in his reading and studies, man has " sown beside 
all waters," and " intermeddled with all wisdom," he is rich 
in experience, wise in counsel, self-reliant in action, lofty in 
purpose and fearless in execution. A man of this mould 
is never poor and never without resources. He has food 
to eat that the world knows not of. He has light in his 
dwelling and hope in his heart. If the people of his age 
flatter and smile upon him, he appreciates their kindness. 



46 



THE EVILS OF MENTAL DISSIPATION. 



and knows how to turn it to the best account. But if 
they neglect and frown upon him, he can withdraw from 
society, live within himself, commune in books and liter- 
ature, art and science, with the great master spirits of the past 
and present, and, through faith in Jehovah, as revealed in 
nature and revelation, " he can soar to heaven and talk with 
God!" A man of this grade is never lonely, and need never 
be depressed. His horizon is broad, his vision bright, his 
experience deep and his happiness profound. Such a creature 
is worthy of the God who made him, and, like his Infinite 
Father, he is, to some extent at least, " the same, yesterday, 
to-day and forever." The shallow, fitful, dissipated mind is 
incomparably inferior to this. Its vision is short, sympathies 
narrow, resources few and capabilities small. In the great 
trials of life, when discipline, endurance and courage are indis- 
pensable, what can the dissipated mind do ? It is wholly 
dependent ! It has refused to encounter difficulties and master 
enemies. Labor has been irksome, regular employment 
shunned, and the mind in its conscious weakness has become 
irresolute and timid. And now, toward the end of life, when 
cares and trials come and the strength and courage which 
well developed manhood and brain power secure are needed, 
the dissipated mind is helpless and hopeless ! Such minds 
have a pitiable experience, and their poverty and littleness are 
absolutely hideous. 

In all the walks of life, there are multitudes of such 
minds. Men and women who have allowed the era of 
mental discipline and culture to pass unimproved, who have 
for years been drones in every intellectual hive, now, 
when their lives are hard and their stores scanty, curse 
their fate, envy the intellectual competency of the learned and 
great, and murmur against the allotments of providence. 
In these things they are wrong. Their weakness, ignorance 



YOU AND I. 



47 



and mental destitution are the natural results of their own folly. 
They have never been systematic workers, have had no self- 
control, and the powers of their minds, like undrilled and 
undisciplined soldiers, are useless and helpless! The steam 
has not been compressed into the intellectual cylinder, and, con- 
sequently, it has no power. It is not denied that they have had 
their periods of activity, and that at times they have worked. 
But their labors have been fitful, irregular and eccentric. 
Their energies have been divided and scattered, and the 
results of their studies and readings are comparatively worth- 
less. Their minds may have been bright, and the mental rays 
may have been abundant and luminous, but they have been 
scattered, and their focal power has never been felt at a single 
burning point. This is one of the causes, aye, one of the 
greatest causes, of intellectual blight and personal disaster. 

Mental Dissipation is Hurtful to Society. — The effects of 
mere manual labor are small. Mind is the prolific source 
of wealth, ease, convenience and comfort. The activities of 
this divine principle within us mark the distance between 
savage and civilized life. Before the proper development of 
mind in any country, the bare necessities of existence, and 
these only, can be possessed by those who have no culture, no 
science and no art. In this state of society, existence is 
cramped and stinted. Food and raiment are meagre, and 
men — and especially women — are menials. The drudgeries 
and hardships of life bear heavily upon them. Their mode of 
being is little above the condition of the beasts that perish. 
They are of the earth, and seldom lift their eyes and hearts 
up toward Him in whom they live, move, and have their 
being. But when mind is realized, esteemed, and fully 
utilized, the era of growth and progress begins. The hidden 
stores of nature are uncovered, and their contents drawn out 



48 



THE EVILS OF MENTAL BIS SIP A TLON. 



and brought into use. The principles and facts utilized in 
mechanics are discovered. Manufactories spring into being. 
The raw materials collected from the fields, forests and mines 
are transformed into articles of usefulness. Taste is developed. 
The fine arts spread a charm, an elegance, over all that we 
possess, and man becomes a more refined, a more accomplished 
being. The great a -priori principles, that run through and 
bind together the phenomena and facts that enter into sys- 
tems of science and philosophy, are perceived, and men see the 
order of creation, trace the links in the chain of cause and 
effect, and feel the motion of the great wheels of infinite 
providence. In the light of reason, conscience opens its 
eyes. The wide distinctions between truth and error, right 
and wrong, heaven and hell, are perceived, and men and 
women possess a nobility, grace, dignity, moral worth and 
greatness that ally them to God and angels! But the 
steps by which these heights of physical, mental and moral 
being are reached can be climbed only by him who walks 
steadily, calmly and regularly onward and upward. No fitful, 
irregular motion will succeed. Earnest, faithful, persistent^ 
exhaustive labor is indispensable, and, without it, the great 
realms of matter and mind can never be explored, thrown 
open and brought into the service of the human race. If these 
things are true, and society is dependent upon regular, athletic, 
mental employment for all its resources and powers, can any 
thing be more destructive to the interests, successes and hopes 
of humanity than mental dissipation? The primary meaning 
of the word shows its deadly influence. It comes from " dis^ 
apart, and supo, to throw. 1 ' Dissipation scatters and wastes, 
pulls down and destroys. With this fearful conception of the 
word in the mind, we have only to look around to perceive 
the wholesale mischief that is carried on almost everywhere. 
Of the thousands who come into being in all civilized climes 



YOU AND I. 



49 



and countries, how few have any real mental life? Of the 
vast hordes that come upon the stage of action, not one in ten, 
not one in twenty, regularly reads and thinks! More may 
pretend to do so, but where are the fruits of their mental 
being? a They have names to live while they are dead." 
There is no system, nor order, nor aim in their reading and 
thinking. The light, passionate fictions of the age, with their 
licentious and weird stories, may occupy the time, chain the 
attention, and inflame the natures of our sons and daughters; 
but they contain no accurate information, interpose no checks 
to vice and folly, and create no great training of thought and 
sentiment. On the contrary, their tendency is to evil. They 
distend and poison the intellectual stomach. The}' hang up 
in the halls of memory unnatural life pictures, which haunt 
the imagination and corrupt the truth. It is impossible to 
estimate the waste of time, the decay of the intellectual powers 
and the blight of the moral nature produced by such mental 
habits. They spread and grow like the breath of a great pes- 
tilence, in proportion to the countless victims upon whom they 
feed, until whole countries and* generations are cursed and 
blasted by their influence. They lay their wilting power upon 
manhood and womanhood, and spread the shadows of death 
over many a blighted house and ruined family! 

The sensational newspapers and the police gazettes, that 
stream from the teeming presses of the age, exert a no less per- 
nicious and deadly power. In too many instances, for the sake 
of gain, the owners of these execrable sheets cater to a per- 
nicious public appetite, and feed to surfeiting the debauched 
intellectual and moral natures of a dissolute but growing multi- 
tude of voracious readers ! Who can adequately estimate the 
great harvest of corruption and crime, sin and death that must 
ultimately grow and be reaped from seed sown by the venal 

presses of this country? Nor are the extravagant and bitter 

4 



50 



THE EVILS OF MENTAL DISSIPATION. 



partizan periodicals of the time free from censure at this 
point. Large numbers ot these appear to have adopted as 
their motto, " The end justifies the means," and they assail 
their adversaries and defend their friends by any instrumental- 
ities that truth or falsehood, fact or fable, may supply. When 
we remember that the masses of the people read little outside 
of the classes of books and periodicals just named, do we 
wonder that the number of disciplined minds is so small, and 
the number of those who do not study or think is so large? 

When the tendencies to disorder and abasement are so 
numerous, can any be surprised at the enormous outlays of 
money and men that are necessary for the quiet, peace, and 
protection of society? And yet, outlaws increase, crimes 
multiply, officers of state are busy, the courts of justice find 
constant employment, and work-houses, jails and penitentiaries 
are crowded! Thousands, aye, millions, who could, and 
should be constant workers and producers in the busy social 
and political hives of the country, are worse than drones. They 
are destructives whose power goes crashing through all the 
interests of humanity! Who, that ponders these facts as he 
ought can fail to feel and deplore the evils that spring from 
mental dissipation? Its breath is pestilent, and its touch is 
death ! 

History Bears Testimony to the Truthfulness of What has 
Been Said. — The great epochs in nearly all countries have 
been preceded by men of earnest and continued mental work. 
An instance of this kind occurred during the reign of Queen 
Elizabeth of England. From the age of Alfred the Great, 
there had been men of mind in the kingdom. Geoffrey 
Chaucer was a great man, and he did much for his native land, 
and especially in the formation of the English language. But, 
notwithstanding the advancements made in literature and art, 



YOU AXD I. 



51 



no great galaxy of stars appeared in the scientific heavens of 
Great Britain. Sonnets, pastoral poetry and fiction had 
engaged the attention of the people who could read. All 
intellectual labor was of a light and joyous character. The 
people lived in their eyes and ears and in the gratification of 
their appetites. They were fond of passion and display, jousts 
and tournaments, feasts and masquerades, music and shows. 
But before the death of Henry VIII culture began to grow. 
It continued, and in the reign of Elizabeth, the ancient classics 
were studied, the sciences began to receive the attention which 
their importance deserved, education took a much wider range, 
and men learned to study and to think for themselves. Sir 
Walter Raleigh. Sir Francis Bacon and others, became great 
in thought and culture, and the intellectual labors of these 
men and their learned and laborious contemporaries, produced 
a new era in English mind and in English manhood. The 
momentum which these master spirits gave to growth, great- 
ness and power, has never been lost. To this day. they live in 
the literature, science, philosophy and religion of the British 
empire. Their example and influence have lifted their coun- 
trymen upon an elevated plane that has never before been 
reached by a whole nation of people. The greatness of Eng- 
land to-day and her power at home and abroad, on land and 
sea, are the direct results of the thousands in her wide domin- 
ions who. day and night, bend under their intellectual burdens. 
In their hoarded wisdom, scientific skill, personal energy and 
united strength, they are in the van of the vast army of intel- 
lectual and Christian workers in the civilized world. 

Prussia, under the reign of the Emperor William, guided 
by the astute and far-seeing Bismarck, exemplifies the same 
truth. Her exalted and splendid position among the great 
powers of Europe is the result of the Herculean mental energy 
and enterprise that have distinguished the Germans for more 



52 



THE EVILS OF MENTAL DISSIPATION. 



than half a century. The plodding, toiling, persistent German 
mind is now beginning to eat the rich, ripe fruits of its long, 
earnest and indefatigable labors ! And does not our own 
history shed a clear, strong light upon this subject? Little 
more than a century ago, a few scattered colonists, representing 
the best blood, brain and heart of the gifted, freedom-loving 
masses of the old world, came to this country. They occupied 
a small number of settlements on the borders of the newly dis- 
covered continent. They were in the midst of thousands of 
savage red men, who regarded them as enemies and depreda- 
tors, and who planned and plotted for their destruction. These 
colonists were destitute of all the comforts and elegancies of 
life, and could secure only the bare necessaries of existence in 
the sweat of their faces. But, despite all the difficulties and 
dangers that confronted them, they have cleared, peopled, and 
now hold in a high state of physical, mental and moral culture r 
the finest continent upon which the sun shines ! And they have 
built here, in their free, united and prosperous government, the 
finest temple of personal and public freedom ever erected upon 
the face of earth ! This glorious country, with its vast domain^ 
teeming resources and fifty millions of people, is the magnifi- 
cent result of a hundred years of intellectual toil. 

The failures of many ancient and modern slates and king- 
doms add emphasis to what has just been said. When the citi- 
zens of a country are ignorant, they become an easy prey to am- 
bitious and selfish rulers. In such a country, a single great man 
can fasten chains of despotism upon the necks of undeveloped 
thousands. He can build up a princely family, establish a 
throne, and lead great armies into the territories of neighbor- 
ing states. To the uninitiated, such a government may seem 
to be strong and the sovereign or magistrate may apparently 
be firmly established in his chair of state; but, if the great 



YOU AND I. 



53 



ruler dies, how often does his kingdom perish with him. 
There is a want of great men in the land, who can take the 
place of the fallen leader, and complete the work already 
begun. This is one reason, and the chief one, that caused the 
fickleness and instability of ancient governments. The Cen- 
tral and South American states have been of this character. 
The people have been ignorant, have not had mental discipline 
and training, their intellectual forces have been wasted, dis- 
sipated and lost, and there is nothing stable or strong. Like 
the colors of a chameleon, or shifting scenes in the kaleidoscope, 
such governments come and go. And the miseries, poverty 
and discouragement of the people must necessarily be great. 
Accumulation, growth, power and greatness are impossible! 
There is nothing permanent, and nothing safe! And no man 
can tell "what a day may bring forth." Industry and energy 
often lose their rewards. There are no restraints to vice, idle- 
ness and dissipation, and no incentives to enterprise and virtue. 
The gloom of midnight rests upon such a country, and the 
paralysis of death falls upon its inhabitants. 

It may be proper here to suggest some remedies for the 
evils of mental dissipation. These are, to begin with, — a well 
organized and regulated system of hygiene. The laws of 
health have much to do with mental training and develop- 
ment. A sound, healthy body is a noble boon. The in- 
spired teacher makes Christ congratulate Himself, as the divine 
Son is enveloped in pure flesh and blood. Looking up to 
the Father, in grateful recognition of the gift, He says, " A 
body hast thou prepared me!" This body, created pure, 
fitted Him for His mission in this world, and without it He 
could never have put the holy and spiritual truth of the divine 
kingdom into the minds, hearts and lives of men. Neither can 
men develop, do their work, and pass hopefully and joyously 
out of life without a body. Infants and invalids may fall 



54 



THE EVILS OF MENTAL DISSIPATLON. 



asleep sweetly and quietly in the arms of infinite compassion,, 
but great and well poised mental life is generally encased 
in a healthy body. There are exceptions to the rule, but still 
it exists, and its reality is conceded. 

The mind operates in this life through physical organs, and 
its vigor and power must, to some extent, depend upon their 
strength. And, if this be true, too much attention can hardly 
be given to the laws of health and physicial training. Multi- 
tudes of men and women are wrecked intellectually for want 
of these. In their absence, a weak, sickly state of body ensues, 
mental application can not be endured, idle, restless and inat- 
tentive habits are engendered, and the powers of the mind 
can not be unfolded, concentrated and made strong. Some of 
the brightest minds in the world have been lost to themselves, 
and lost to society in this manner. If we would stop this con- 
stant drain upon our mental resources, stimulate intellectual, 
growth and enterprise, and raise up a generation of men and 
women who can master difficulties, discover the occult prin- 
ciples of social, civil and religious truth, we must inculcate and 
practice a wise and rigid system of hygiene. 

A thorough and well digested course of instruction should 
be inaugurated in our -public schools. — There is a tendency 
to light, partial and rapid education in this age. Our sons 
and daughters are eager to become men and women. They 
are impatient of restraint and control. Life is bright and 
gay to them, seems too short for the acquisition of all that 
they wish to possess and enjoy, and, consequently, they are 
unwilling to spare the time necessary for culture and prepara- 
tion. They must hasten to the goal of their activates and joys. 
They bear constantly against the reins of parental authority 
and scholastic discipline, and indulgent fathers and mothers 
yield. Adroit and selfish teachers, perceiving the tendencies 
of the age, adjust their courses of study to the popular taste. 



YOU AND I. 



55 



Either long lessons, wearisome to the student and improperly 
prepared, are hurriedly passed over, or a short, easy curric- 
ulum is established, cheap teachers are employed, the 
young of both sexes enter our colleges, and gradaute at a 




A TIRESOME LESSON. 



stage of advancement that hardly fits them for the high 
school. Such a course is ruinous, and fails to prepare the 
young for the stern realities and responsible duties of life. 
These half educated and undisciplined -parvenus enter society 
to become the devotees of fashion and folly, the dupes and 
gulls of ingenious and unprincipled men and women, who 
wish to use them for the accomplishment of their own selfish, 
heartless and infamous ends ! Every friend of humanity pities 
from his heart the inexperienced thousands of both sexes who 
pour out of the finishing schools of this country to flutter and 
flash like the gay and thoughtless butterfly through the bright 
flower-beds of youthful pleasure and fashionable dissipation, 
and then to endure the bitter disappointments and cruel hard- 



56 



THE EVILS OF MENTAL DISSIPATION. 



ships which spring from wasted youthful opportunities, and 
ultimately to die in neglect and want, with the fires of remorse 
burning in their hearts! 

Education should be thorough; the rudiments should be com- 
pletely mastered ; the linguistic and scientific schools should be 
strong; our own rich mother tongue should hold a command- 
ing place in the course of studies; able masters, possessing the 
accomplishments and manhood which we covet for our chil- 
dren, should rill the seats of learning, and the practical utility 
of all that is taught should be emphasized and pressed upon 
the attention of the young. When all of this is done, and 
faithfully done, the tendencies to mental dissipation will be 
immeasurably diminished. And all this should be done, or 
our children should be left to the discipline and culture which 
labor, attention to business and the earnest, necessary and 
pressing enterprises of life secure. It is better, a thousand 
times, to leave a child to these, than to smatter him through 
the short course in many of the shallow and superficial schools 
of this age. 

Moral principle and the restraints and stimulants of reli- 
gious truth are friendly to mental discipline. — Whatever 
may be the opinions of men in reference to the Christian 
religion, it must be conceded that, when honestly embraced 
and conscientiously practiced, it calms, sobers, restrains and 
elevates human nature. It unites, with the religion of nature, 
in throwing open to man's gaze all the stores that a benignant 
providence has filled for the use and enjoyment of his earthly 
creatures, while, at the same time, it tells us how and when 
they may be legitimately used. But, while it freely encour- 
ages all innocent and pure pleasures, it puts the divine inter- 
dict upon all that is irregular, eccentric and wrong. This 
system, that claims to be from God, proposes to regulate and 



YOU AND I. 



57 



control our whole lives, and to hold us, in the indulgence of 
our appetites, passions, tastes and predilections, within the 
bounds of temperance, prudence and propriety. And it en- 
forces obedience to its mandates with the awful penalties of 
life and death to both body and soul! No thoughtful mind 
can fail to perceive that such a religion must, and will, be 
favorable to the highest species of mental discipline. Under 
its benign influence, the powers of appetite are diminished, 
reason and conscience become the regnant elements in human 
life, virtue and purity are quickened, and the poise, greatness 
and splendor of manhood, are augmented and beautified. 

If these be facts, who can fail to see that the cultivation 
and practice of the Christian religion should be esteemed and 
encouraged by all who wish to diminish the tendencies to 
mental dissipation, and who would promote the health, ac- 
tivity, regularity and power of the human mind! They who 
would take the Bible from the school-room, exclude Christian 
masters from professorships and presidential chairs in our 
institutions of learning, and would, if they could, divorce 
Christianity from culture, are not the friends of mental growth 
and intellectual superiority. He who, animated by the spirit 
of the late Stephen Girard, would stand, armed with authority, 
at the doors of the colleges and universities of this country, 
and prevent the ingress of the principles and ministers of 
religious truth, is, either wittingly or unwittingly, the enemy 
to true culture, to high mental discipline, and to the purity 
and elevation of character that ennobles and dignifies human 
nature. 

If we would make the wisest and best possible use of the 
rich stores of material, intellectual and moral good, which 
God, in His goodness, has given us; if we would properly 
employ the abundant materials furnished to our hands by 
the intellectual and spiritual generations of workers that have 



58 



THE EVILS OF MENTAL DISSIPATION. 



preceded us; and if we would finish the great temple of 
Christian civilization upon the foundation which they have 
laid, we must avail ourselves of the restraints and fears, the 
hopes and incentives of the Christian religion. This will help 
to awake the human mind to all its possibilities for this life, 
and for that which is to come. 




THE EOES OF SOCIETY. 



BY 



REV. RANSOM DUNN, D. D. 




BSOLUTE simplicity, if not incon- 
ceivable, is indefinable. Definition 
implies plurality. No idea, thing or 
being is known by itself, but al- 



Jijjj ways in relation to something 
else. We must believe in simple 
ideas and single objects; but in 
reality every individual is a part 
of a general whole. This is em- 
phatically true of man. No mat- 
ter how complete and perfect may be the individual, he is 
never complete in himself, but is always a part of society. 
The real functions of man, his true life and dignity are real- 
ized only in society. 

This society may be primitive and simple, domestic and 
social, organic and civil; but it must exist. The duties, 
advantages and dangers of society are therefore subjects of 
the highest importance. 

The accidental aggregation of individuals in simple society 
or the voluntary organizations for profit or pleasure may 



be of vast consequence 



to those 

59 



associated ; but man^s 



YOU AND L 



development, character and destiny depend upon the natural 
relation in family and state. 

All combinations of matter and mind exhibit antagon- 
isms, and much of the beauty and utility of the universe 
depends upon these antagonistic forces. Society must neces- 
sarily include some such forces ; but a single glance at the his- 
tory and condition of the world reveals something more and 
worse than simple antagonism. Personal crimes, social dis- 
orders and national wars reveal the fact that some terrible 
forces have been at war with society and in conflict with its 
principles and interests. These foes have not been weak and 
incidental, but fierce, perpetual and bloody. The most tender 
ties have been severed, honor and happiness disregarded, and 
the most sacred obligations and institutions violated. Empires 
have been scattered, nations ruined, and civilization itself 
saved from death only by marching out from falling kingdoms 
to newer fields. The fragments of these social and civil ruins, 
stained with blood, are scattered all over the field of history. 
No form of government nor type of civilization has escaped 
the foes of society, which have fought with equal vengeance 
against the family, the republic and the throne. 

First. — Individualism necessarily antagonizes society. 
Each individual has wants and desires to be satisfied only by 
the same blessings desired by others; and, if the competition 
and antagonism could only be well balanced, each braced by 
resistance and stimulated by contact, public utility would be 
enjoyed. But each member of society possesses some quali- 
ties, forces and capabilities, the uses of which belong to others. 
Every man is thus in part owned by others and, although his 
right to himself is supreme over what is exclusively his own, 
yet the assistance due to others by reciprocity or benevo- 
lence, is as really a debt to society as though written in the 
most formal bond. Just how much belongs exclusively to the 



THE FOES OF SOCIETY. 



61 



individual and how much to society is not easily determined. 
Despotism claims entire possession, denying all personal claims. 
Monarchy claims supreme, if not divine rights, holding per- 
sonal rights subject to the king or queen, who speaks of sub- 
jects and soldiers as, " my subjects and servants." Republi- 
canism claims a portion of every man's energies and influence 
and admits every man's personal rights and claims upon soci- 
ety. Individualism claims, in theory or practice, entire per- 
sonal possession and the right to ignore society in life and 
labor. Hermits and ascetics thus fight society by robbing the 
world of services due and retiring as far as possible within the 
limits of exclusive individuality. 

In a sense no less offensive, those who in labor and trade 
endeavor to secure wealth and comforts for personal satis- 
faction and use, regardless of others' claims, are foes to society; 
not only withholding what belongs to society of their own 
being and possessions, but taking what actually belongs to the 
public. Whenever the support due to the family is withheld 
or hoarded, or the tax due to government retained, society 
suffers from foes who are not honorable nor honest. This class 
of foes did not die with ancient empires, nor fear to cross the 
Atlantic, nor perish in the American civil wars. 

Consistency is not a necessary qualification for society's foes. 
In all ages, not excepting the nineteenth century, some have 
denied the rights of society entirely, claiming complete and 
supreme individual rights in all things and associating together 
simply for their maintenance. The communistic distribution 
of property proposed, the socialistic idea of force by society in 
meeting the demands of individuals, and the nihilistic, chaotic 
state fought for, are all but the wild forces of extreme individ- 
ualism. None of these schemes could be realized without 
destroying society, upon which the civilization and existence 
of the race depends. 



62 



YOU AND L 



Second. — Monorchism, or the love of power, presents a 
still more formidable array of the enemies of society. Some- 
times the war-club of the savage reveals and stimulates this 
murderous love, and the necklace of scalps tells the bloody 
story of wrong and suffering. Sometimes, in milder form, 
individual intrigue and persevering assumption give destruc- 
tive power. Sometimes, and often, the power of influence and 
financial dominion are sought and secured by the power of 
money. Indeed, it is hard to see why money is sought with 
such eagerness and sacrifice excepting for animal gratification, 
or better standing in society ; and what does that better stand- 
ing mean but a position, exciting the fear and respect of 
others, and an increase of influence or power over the feelings, 
business or pursuits of other members of society. Most of the 
" love of money, 7 '' especially in America, is for the power it 
gives over business and trade, and position in society, or for 
civil or military office. This destructive warfare upon society 
is developed in all kinds of public and private robbery and in 
inflictions of poverty and wretchedness upon society. But 
this destructive foe is seen in his most frightful work in per- 
sonal and incorporated monopolies. Capital and capitalists are 
necessary in the great improvements and progress of civiliza- 
tion, and corporations are indispensable; but when these 
mighty forces are used for the oppression of labor or the 
unnecessary increase of the prices of life's comforts, they 
become the engines of torture, — foes to humanity. And these 
foes are all the worse and more dangerous, because of the dif- 
ficulty in distinguishing them, and of devising means or laws 
for their suppression. Producers and consumers have, com- 
paratively, very little money, but most of the wealth of the 
world is to be seen somewhere between the hand of the pro- 
ducer and the mouth of the consumer. In some cases the 
love and exercise of power against the best interests of society 



THE FOES OF SOCIETY. 



63 



are developed in hereditary and family aristocracy. The 
power of assumption is wonderful, and, when kept up for suc- 
cessive generations, it is not strange that caste distinctions, 
jealousies and oppressions afflict society, and when civil gov- 
ernments recognize and support such assumptions, the evil is 
greatly increased to the injury of all parties. Even the aris- 
tocracy of learning, when confined to a few favored ones and 
given civil or military authority, may, with the superior skill 
and knowledge of scholarship, become an enemy to society. 

Religious aristocracy has sometimes been employed as an 
engine of power against the people and society at large. 
There are false, as well as true religions, selfish as well as 
benevolent organizations. Pure religion is the friend of 
society and of progress, and even false religions stand out in 
history so identified with the best developments of civilization 
and society, as to justify the belief that the exercise of man's 
religious nature in some form, is indispensable to human 
progress. There are religious systems, orders and organi- 
zations which are oppressive and injurious, and especially is 
this true respecting ecclesiastical centralization and monopoly. 
Indeed it is probable that not a single case in the world's his- 
tory can be found where a single religious organization existed 
any great length of time without competition, which did not 
become corrupt and oppressive. Universal ecclesiastical unity 
in America would undoubtedly, with present moral and relig- 
ious attainments, repeat the history of the Dark Ages, with a 
vengeance. 

But the civil and military foes of society stand out the most 
distinct in the field of history, with the spirit of monarchical 
tyranny, and the instruments of death and despotism. Poli- 
tical partisans, struggling for power which would be oppres- 
sive if unopposed ; civil officers usurping unjust prerogatives ; 
ignorant and selfish legislators; bribed judges and ambitious 



64 



YOU AND /. 



administrators, kindle passions and fires which result in the 
slaughter of the battlefield. It may be true that the moral 
and civil atmosphere is sometimes cleared by these terrible 
convulsions; and yet, better methods ought to be adopted, and, 
society saved from the torture of the world's great curse. 
The love of power, which is the spirit of monarchism, seems 
to be universal and omnipresent, disturbing the peace of the 
most sacred relations, defeating the wisest counsels of states- 
manship and always participating in the death of nations. 

Third. — Animalism furnishes foes no less numerous and 
formidable. Society is constituted of mental beings, not ani- 
mals. But men have animal as well as human nature, bodies 
as well as minds, instincts as well as reason. If controlled by 
reason and conscience, these instincts become fibres of attach- 
ment and sources of social and civil strength ; but their limits 
are not determined by fixed physical laws, and unless re- 
strained by judgment and conscience, their constant demand 
and continuous gratification will prove the most subtle and 
destructive foes ever brought against human society. Unlaw- 
ful gratification of appetite destroyed the peace of Eden and 
poisoned the currents of human life. Not only were fear, 
wretchedness and death thus introduced into the first family, 
but into every family upon the earth. Passion and appetite 
simply demand gratification and freedom from exertion. 

Indolence is the sure result of sensualism; but the utility 
and success of society depend upon activity. Nothing can be 
more directly opposed to the best interest of society than the 
lethargy produced by excessive gratification of animal nature. 
As animal nature is thus developed, intellect and intelligence 
are diminished and the conscience and social feelings stupefied. 
Literary institutions and enterprises will be neglected, and 
culture, at first confined to esthetics and fiction, will decay, 



THE FOES OF SOCIETY 



65 



and general weakness ensue. Without 
labor, in ease and luxury, energy and 
enterprise, courage and constitution 
diminish and general debility f) 
prepares society for prostra- 
tion and death. 

The coolness of family 
love, the weakness of social 
virtue, the low estimate of 
public conscience and honor, 
the weakness of moral con- 
victions and true patriotism, 
are the sure signs 
of national death. 
There are crimes 



against 



individuals, £ 





MONARCH ISM. 

// which, although great, are 
V not murder, and there are 
3 terrible foes of society 
* which still leave life in 
and nations ; 

but 



civilization 



ANIMALISM. 



r out luxury and lust sap 
j, the foundations of society, 
destroy the vitality of na- 
tions and complete the 
work of destruction. Na- 
tions do not die from ex- 
ternal conflict and pres- 
sure, but from internal 
weakness superinduced 
by their luxurious and 



66 



YOU AND I. 



deteriorating modes of life. If to indolence, debilitating 
amusements and common luxuries, powerful stimulants are 
added, decay and death are sure. So Egypt, intoxicated with 
the luxurious habits and pleasures of Assyria and Phoenicia, 
decayed. The remnants of her civilization were too much 
for Greece, which in self-gratification lost her strength and 

CD 

grandeur, leaving her history and literature — her dead empire 
and dead language — to other nations. Rome, prospering for 
a while, with literary, artistic and financial wealth, borrowed 
or stolen from the Grecian isles, dies at last by the imbecility 
superinduced by her passions and pride. Her physical and 
moral strength and courage were wasted before the Northmen 
struck the fatal blow which scattered the grandest empire the 
world had ever seen. So it has been with all the nations and 
all the types of civilization in their conditions of life and pro- 
gress. They have been weakened, petrified or destroyed in 
proportion to the influence of sensualism. Nations may waste 
their wealth in useless expenditures, or mangle each other on 
battle-fields, yet survive, and even grow; but when they yield 
to animalism, they drink the poison of death and commit 
national suicide. 

If, with the luxuries and stimulants of antiquity, nations 
were so completely subdued and ruined, what must be 
expected from the foes of the present day, which pour the 
burning: lava of alcohol through all the land? " Never before 
have the means of inebriation been so abundant and so easily 
obtained, and never before have these stimulants been so pois- 
onous and destructive. The wealth and wages of the people 
of America, which furnish larger means and opportunity 
for intoxication, render foes from this source more terrible 
and dangerous to society than ever before threatened the vital- 
ity of civilization. Just so sure as the laws of nature continue, 
the continuance and liberty of this class of foes will seal the 



THE FOES OF SOCIETY. 



67 



doom of American society. More family blood, tears and 
anguish arise from this source than all others. No blighting 
curse of earth has done so much to ruin family happi- 
ness and hopes, or severed so many ties of friendship and 
society. No other evil has wasted and consumed so much 
prosperity and life, destroyed so many minds and bodies, pro- 
duced so much crime and misery, debilitated so many officers 
and citizens, as intemperance. The tide of civilization must 
subside or the waves of intoxication be stayed. This is an 
irrepressible conflict which cannot be postponed or evaded. 
The foe is in the field with millions of money and hundreds of 
thousands of servile followers. It is life or death for the 
nation — for civilization — and for millions of families and indi- 
viduals embraced in the relations of society. 

Fourth. — Philosophical Enemies. The growth and pro- 
gress of society must depend largely upon its ideals. If these 
are not above the human, then the development must be limited 
by the best which are accepted. The denial of a perfect 
Supreme Being must be a hindrance to personal and social 
advancement. Society is based upon social conceptions and 
feelings, and, if these are limited to human associations, social 
nature must be limited in practical exercise and experience as 
well as in ideals. But a small portion of human life can be 
spent in actual converse with society. Most of our time and 
thought is devoted to those who are absent, and these associa- 
tions should be in advance of actual experience. As a child 
should be associated with those higher and better than his 
equals, so man needs to cultivate his social nature with a being 
higher than himself. In all cases of affection, there is a neces- 
sary tendency to deny all imperfections of the loved ones and 
to make out, as far as possible, a perfect object of love. This 
demand for a perfect object of affection is inherent in the 
human mind, showing that mind was made for something 



YOU AND I. 



higher than itself and that without such an object of love, like 
the bird with its broken wing, the man, and thus society, must 
sink instead of rising. 

In all society there must be mutual dependence and feelings 
of obligation and a grateful recognition of favors. Gratitude 
therefore becomes a necessary condition, of society, life 
and happiness. 

Gratitude always contemplates personal favors, and gratitude 
to things is impossible. And yet, ninety-nine-hundredths of 
all our comforts come from some source above and indepen- 
dent of man, and any theory which ignores a Supreme Bene- 
factor destroys all possibility of gratitude indispensable to true 
society. The denial of a divine supreme Deity, or the denial 
of a divine personality outside of matter, or such denial of 
evidence as leaves the mind professedly without belief in divine 
personal perfections, must be opposed to the best interests and 
life of society. Atheism, as positive, pantheistic or agnostic, 
robs society of its models of character and of the best associa- 
tions of thought and feeling, renders gratitude impossible in 
many cases, and is a foe to society in the fundamental elements 
of its life. As a chain cannot be sustained by its own links 
without some ground of dependence outside itself, no more can 
obligation have a firm basis and standard without relations 
above equals, and supreme. Without a God there can be no 
standard of morality nor moral foundation for society. The 
denial of a God is virtually the denial of spirit, distinct from 
matter. But society is itself spiritual and to ignore or deny 
such existence is to deny society itself. So also is society 
necessarily constituted with reference to a future. And that 
tendency of mind and life of hope is to such an extent vital to 
all true society that the denial in any form of the existence and 
eternity of God or of man's immortality is to strike at the very 
heart of society and oppose its very life. 



THE FOES OF SOCIETY. 



69 



Such then are the enemies with which society has to con- 
tend. All the battle-fields of nations and conflicts of civiliza- 
tion, all the struggles for family and social life and happiness 
have been conflicts with Individualism, Monarchism, Animal- 
ism and Atheism. And when individual claims shall be held 
subject to society rights, — power be exercised in benevolence, 
— animal appetites and passions be subjected to reason and 
conscience, and all subjected to the Supreme Ruler, then will 
be realized the completeness of personal life, the perfection of 
society and the fullness of hope. 





THE ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN 
AND YOUNG WOMEN. 



BY 



REV. B. F. AUSTIN, M.A..B.D. 




WISH to address a few 
words of friendly counsel 
to the young men and wo- 
men who may read this book, 
their mutual associa- 
tions, the influence given and received therein, 
and the methods by which such influence may be 
increased and extended to mutual advantage. I shall assume^ 
in this discussion, that such companionship of young men and 
women is eminently fitting and proper in itself, that it was evi- 
dently designed by divine providence, and that, though 
attended with some temptation and dangers, it subserves 
grand purposes, and is fraught with blessings to the race. 
Here and there in society may still be found a home where 
such associations are looked upon as an evil, to be restrained 
or prohibited, and occasionally, too, a church where separate 
seats are still provided for men and women. But, generally 
speaking, it is assumed that it is natural, expedient and right 

70 



ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEM AND YOUNG WOMEN. 71 



that young men and women should enjoy each other's com- 
pany, and that each sex is much better for the society of the 
other. From the ages of fifteen to twenty-live, all young men 
and voung women, unless defective in body, brain or heart, 
experience a social craving, which the members of their own 
families can not satisfv. Then they turn longingly towards 
society. As the warm breath of spring kisses the sleeping 
flowers, and calls dead nature into new life, so this period of 
vouth awakens the social nature, and makes its graces bud and 
blossom in the human heart. It may be seriously questioned 
if this great fact of human nature has yet been sufficiently 
taken into account by parents, educators, ministers and social 
reformers, in arranging the home, school, church and social 
life of the young. Those having charge of the youth are 
under very serious obligations to see that alongside the devel- 
opment of the physical, intellectual and moral natures of those 
committed to their care, there shall be a corresponding devel- 
opment of the social nature, that no undue restraint be placed 
upon it, and that young people shall have the very best pos- 
sible opportunities for forming that thorough acquaintance 
with each other upon which the choice of a life time may 
safely be made — a choice that blesses or blasts the entire life. 
Both sexes supply needed elements to social life. and. hence, 
each is incomplete without the other. Every young man is 
insensibly refined and elevated by the society of a lady : and 
she, in turn, is strengthened and inspired by the companionship 
of a gentleman. 

I will also assume that the voung friends for whom I 
specially write are really anxious for self-improvement, and 
possess some laudable ambition to gain and exert beneficent 
influence in society, for. without this. I am full}' persuaded 
that all the counsel I can give you will prove useless. Pos- 
sessing this ambition, you will very likelv suggest for our dis- 



72 



YOU AND I. 



cussion a few practical questions such as these: — Under what 
circumstances should young men and young women enjoy 
each other's society? How may such association be made in 
the highest degree beneficial? 

With regard to the places and times at which young people 
may properly associate, it will not be difficult for any young 
man or woman of good judgment to decide. All who are 
under age will, of course, pay strict obedience to the rightful 
authority of parents and teachers, and even those no longer 
minors will hear and heed with deep respect the counsels of 
such loving friends. The choice of company is another mat- 
ter in which it is much wiser and safer to trust the judgment 
of those of riper years, than to rely upon our own. There 
are to-day so many proper places of association for young 
men and young women that it is much easier to point out 
where they should not than where they should meet. It may 
be laid down as a maxim for young people that all places that 
furnish in themselves, or their surroundings, temptations to 
waste of time or money, and all amusements that suggest 
improper thoughts to the mind, or necessitate or even permit 
liberties that would not be considered proper and in good 
taste in a well-conducted home, are to be carefully avoided. 
In the same index -proliibitorum, we would place all associa- 
tions or amusements that tend to lessen respect for Christianity 
and the sacred obligations of religion, or to render the simple 
duties of every-day life dull and irksome. " By their fruits 
ye shall know them/ 1 Every young person, possessing true 
self-respect, and desiring to rise into the highest excellence 
and power for good, will shun, as dangerous and deadly, all 
amusements that break down the wall of modest reserve 
which God has erected between the sexes. Rest assured, 
young friends, that company in which there is little of this 
"modest reserve' 1 is at least unprofitable company. Chester- 



ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN. 73 

field very truthfully says: "You little know what you have 
done when you have first broken the bounds of modesty: you 
have set open the door of your fancy to the devil." For 
these reasons, we consider those places which necessitate a 
freedom of intercourse that very easily degenerates into license 
and a " free and easy " style of conduct, which sanction and 
even require many bodily attitudes, movements and postures 
that could not be practiced in the home circle with self- 
respect, by no means conducive to modesty. 

The social gathering in home or church, the concert, the 
lecture and all entertainments that cultivate the intellectual, 
social or moral nature, are, of course, very proper places of 
association for young men and women. No more sacred or 
delightful spot can be found on earth for the formation of 
acquaintance, the growth and ripening of friendship, and the 
exercise of all helpful and beneficent influences than the home 
circle. Few obligations upon parents are more binding or 
important than that of providing pleasant and profitable com- 
panionship for their sons and daughters. 

Most young people have some laudable ambition to possess 
and exert an influence over their associates, and are wont to ask 
themselves the question: What must I do to obtain and exert 
this magic power? A very grave and almost fatal mistake is 
made just here, however, by the mass of young people, and by 
far too many who assume to instruct them in manners and 
general conduct. I allude to the popular fallacy underlying 
the question, what must I do f — the fallacy of supposing that 
any course of conduct or demeanor is sufficient to secure the 
highest influence and social power. There is, perhaps, no more 
common or disastrous delusion than the supposition that real 
influence may be acquired by a code of rules alone, that social 
power may be obtained by a certain style of dress, mode of 
speech, or manner of acting. The highest, mightiest and most 



YOU AXD I. 



permanent influence is not obtained by such artifice. The 
young man or young woman who desires to make the most 
of life, and for this purpose turns the chief thought upon man- 
ners, dress and conduct, makes a fearful mistake. Back of 
the question, what shall I do? lies the infinitely more import- 
ant question, what must I be? Under conduct lies character. 
Back of the stream of beneficent influence, whose fertilizing 
waters you would pour upon society, must be the hidden foun- 
tain of character. Do not misunderstand me. Conduct is 
very important, but character, out of which this conduct 
springs, much more important. In place, therefore, of burden- 
ing you with a multitude of rules and directions for your 
behavior. I prefer to turn your thoughts, first to the formation 
of noble character, afterward offering a few simple directions 
having particular reference to your conduct toward each other. 

Let me first arouse, if possible, the intensest desire of your 
nature for real personal excellence. Had I a voice with which 
I could address the millions of young men and women of 
to-day, I would cry out to all of them, awake ! And the first 
great essential for a successful debut and an influential career 
in society is that you be thoroughly awake. I would have you 
then wake up to these all-important facts: — The supreme 
value of exalted and ennobled character, as the one great pos- 
session in life. The power of personal influence springing out 
of such character. The possibilities in the way of improve- 
ment before each of you. The responsibilities inseparable 
from power and privilege. 

Three-fourths of the young men and women of to-day are 
asleep, so far as the knowledge of these great facts is con- 
cerned. Many are lying in graves of selfishness and sin — 
dead, while living — and need to be called forth, as was Lazarus, 
by the voice of the living Christ to the knowledge of life's 
glorious possibilities and tremendous responsibilities. Power 



-ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN. 75 

and success are won by those alone whose mental and moral 
powers have become aroused for life's struggle. " Genius is 
only the power of lighting one's own fire.'" Happy are the young 
men and young women, fortunate enough to wake up before 
they are thirty years of age. Any book, lecture, sermon or 
companionship is to be reckoned a choice gift from heaven if 
it have the power of rousing thee from slumber, and inspiring 
thee to duty. Character, the sum of all one's qualities of body, 
mind and heart, is the all-important object to set before us, 
whether we aim at personal happiness, or power among our 
fellow men. It is the fountain-head of life, purifying which, 
we may make the streams both pure and sweet. But the 
reverse process can not be accomplished, for, no matter how 
we may straighten the streams, or purify their waters, or even 
adorn their banks with flowers, we can never thus affect the 
fountain. No wiser words were ever penned, even as a guide 
to refined manners and social influence as well as to religious 
character, than the inspired precept: " Keep thy heart with all 
diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." Nature, as well 
as revelation, teaches the superlative value of high intelligence 
and moral character. In fact, the one object for which nature 
exists, is the growth of character. Revelation has for its single 
object the exaltation of human character. Go out, young 
friends, and look upon the earth and man, a pilgrim upon it 
for a brief day. Is not character the only thing he can acquire 
between the cradle and the grave, which he can carry with 
him into the future? What else, then, can a man really call 
his own? See how all nature points out character as the 
supreme object it has in view. The vegetable kingdom feeds 
the animal, and dies ; the animal world serves man's physical 
nature, and passes away; man's physical nature acts as a 
dwelling house for the soul, and perishes; the soul lives on 
forever, but its destiny depends on its character. This char- 



76 



YOU AND J. 



acter is, therefore, the one uniform object God has in view in 
nature, providence and grace — the one great preparation man 
needs for the society of this world as well as the next. This 
it is that gives weight, value and power to human conduct. It 
is not so much to the words we utter, or the manner of utter- 
ance, not to the deeds performed, or the mode in which they 
are done, that we are to look for power and influence among 
men. It is the mind that lies back of the words, the will and 
spirit that permeate the deeds, that give to them their dyna- 
mic influence among men. The world is ruled to-day by the 
might of mind, as it was in former days by the might of arms. 
The educated mind and the cultured heart and will are the 
dominant factors in society at present. Just as the mightiest 
planets rule in heaven, drawing the weaker ones out of their 
projected orbits, so the strongest characters of earth control 
the weakest. Remember, therefore, young friends, that you 
enter society to 7'ule, or to be ruled. Without a character that 
inspires respect, and imparts something of its own energy to 
your words and deeds, all your advantages of birth or station, 
all your acquirements of knowledge and skill, all your graces 
of person or address, are comparatively powerless. 

Awake to the power of that -personal influence you have, or 
may possess. This will spring out of your character and be, 
like it, strong or weak, and its moral quality good or bad, as 
you are. If you are pure in thought and affection, your whole 
life will partake of this heart purity, and the influence you 
exert will be as gracious and grateful to humanity as is the 
brook to the trees and plants that line its banks. If, on the 
contrary, the mind and heart be impure, no amount of atten- 
tion to the conduct will make your influence wholesome. If 
the powers of thought and expression be developed, and the 
mind stored with knowledge, your influence must make itself 
felt in the world of mind: no artifice of the tailor or dress- 



ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG^ WOMEN. 



make:, no instruction of the dancing-master, not even the 
choicest wisdom of the writers upon etiquette, will ever endow 
an ignoramus with influence. There are two kinds of influ- 
ence — the voluntary, and the involuntary. The first is 
occasional, often weak and futile, while the second is silent, 
perpetual and often mighty for good or ill. It belongs as 
naturally and necessarily to character as gravitation does to 
matter. It is an invisible tie. binding together human minds 
and hearts so that no man can either rise or fall alone. Xo 
one lives, or can live, to himself. This involuntary influence 
is as unceasing as the sunshine, or the action of gravitation, or 
the rolling river. It is a continuous stream of living energy, 
that flows out from every life upon the lives of others. This 
is the one momentous fact in connection with our sociai reia- 
tions. It is never lost — never exhausted — though its course 
cannot always be traced. Longfellow describes it as an arrow 
one shoots into the sky, the fall of which is unperceived. and 
the whereabouts unknown for many years, till, m an unex- 
pected hour, it is found buried in the heart of a mighty oak. 
It is ever increasing. Now the little rill on the mountain 
brow — now a noisy rivulet singing among the gorges — now 
a swollen brook in the valley — and then a broad and mighty 
river hastening to the ocean. It is eternal in its duration. 
It is irremediable, irrevocable. We can imagine the bird 
just loosed from the cage and spreading its wings in the sun- 
shine of heaven, called back bv a magic word, or the ball that 
leaps from the cannon's throat recalled by a word of com- 
mand, sooner than the effect of a word spoken or a deed done. 
This influence, that goes out from the centre of your being 
into society, will be like the odor that exhales from flowers, or 
the malaria that rises from stagnant marsh or pool. From 
your inner life, the still, small voice will speak more musicallv, 
more eloquently, more effectually than any words your lips 



78 



YOU AND I. 



can utter. Let this voice, I pray you, be an echo of the divine 
Teacher's, calling men to higher, nobler life, rather than a siren 
voice luring to the rocks of ruin. 

Awake to the glorious possibilities of self -improvement 
before you! This age inherits all the stores of wealth, 
knowledge, power, goodness and privilege belonging to the 
past, and has, in addition, ten thousand blessings and oppor- 
tunities peculiarly its own. With knowledge accessible on 
every hand, society extending its hands in kindly greeting, 
with the clear light of revelation on thy pathway, and a divine 
call to labor ringing in thy ears, surely thou art less than true 
man, thou art less than true woman, if thy soul does not exult 
at the prospect, and thy whole being leap for the race of life! 
The physical powers may be developed to an extent quite 
incredible. The mind and moral nature are opened to the 
infinite, and destined to the eternal. There are no bars the 
soul may not leap, no mountains it may not scale in its career 
of progress. And, with this progress in knowledge and virtue, 
may come increased power over your associates in life. The 
streamlet of your personal influence to-day may. to-morrow, 
become the mighty river bearing its thousand barges to the 
sea. Surely the young men and women who are indifferent 
to these possibilities are asleep, — they are like dumb driven 
cattle. 

Awake to life's great responsibilities, and in youth make 
Duty your guiding star. Remember that as influence is 
inseparable from thy being, so responsibility is inseparable 
from influence. You need the sense of duty, both as a chart 
to guide you and as a ballast to steady you in life's voyage. 
Without this, every wind of temptation will toss your vessel 
toward the breakers. "Is life worth living f " is the question 
of the hour with men who have no faith in God, no sense of 
duty and no hope of reward. Duty faithfully done, and this 



ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN. 79 



alone, will give dignity, value, enjoyment and reward to life. 
If, therefore, you desire to gain the respect of your com- 
panions, to win the attention and the hearts of your fellow 
men, to lead and control society, rather than be led and con- 
trolled, first turn the deepest energies of your soul upon the 
cultivation of noble character. 

Seek Knowledge and Develop the Powers of the Mind. — 
Ninety-nine out of every hundred men and women are without 
excuse if they remain uneducated to-day. With books em- 
bodying the wisdom of the ages, and costing but a trifle, with 
newspapers in every home, conveying full information on 
all current topics, with available lecture courses and night- 
schools, the young man or young woman who remains unintel- 
ligent in this blaze of light, deserves to be ignored by society. 
What a disgrace it is to many young people that they are 
unable to converse intelligently and profitably upon any sub- 
ject really worthy of consideration! Listen to them for hours 
and you hear only the gossip of society, some silly personalities, 
or " that abominable tittle-tattle " — only this, and nothing 
more. From them you hear not a statement that displays 
reason and reflection, nor a thought or sentiment that can ele- 
vate and refine. It is, of course, utterly in vain to reprove 
such persons, or to teach them how to converse, since intelli- 
gent speech can only be expected from intelligent people. All 
the " Rules for Conversation " ever printed will not essentially 
change the matter or the manner of their conversation. Such 
persons can no more utter thoughtful and noble sentiments 
than they can speak Hebrew. Out of the abundance — or 
emptiness — of the heart the mouth speaketh either wisdom or 
foolishness. 

Have a Commanding Purpose hi Life. — No one can ever 
acquire much power over his fellow men who has not, sweep- 



80 



YOU AND I. 



ing through his life, the current of some great purpose. The 
idler, the pleasure seeker, the mere butterflies of fashion can 
never command the respect, or even the admiration of their 
fellowmen. A great purpose will concentrate your energies 
and bring them to bear with power upon society. It was this, 
in connection with high moral principal, that lifted the lives of 
Paul, Luther and Wesley, and in our own age, Livingstone, 
Gordon and Taylor into such commanding prominence and 
power in the world. Cultivate then a u generous purpose for 
a noble end. 7 ' Thousands around you are mere driftwood on 
the surface of society. They float as the current of pleasure 
directs, with no sails spread to catch heaven's favoring breeze, 
no rudder, no chart, no port in view! Their lives have none 
of that momentum that comes from an overmastering purpose, 
working itself out in a life of intense activity. Remember 
that driftwood is only an impediment: it is the tug, with its 
mighty machinery and steam power, that compels the long 
line of barges to follow it. A great purpose will always pro- 
duce a laborious life. Idleness, unless enforced by sickness or 
old age, is dishonorable, and an idle life can never become 
influential. 

Seek by Divine Grace the Cultivation of the Moral Nattire, 
the Development in Tour Character of the Divine Graces^ 
Faith, Hope and Charity. — The corner-stone of character, 
the great essential of every life, the one source of the highest, 
purest and most potent influence one human being can exert 
upon another, is piety. This alone inspires the noblest culture, 
imparts the highest purposes, and gives to the life its greatest 
eloquence and most persuasive power. A terrible mistake 
those young people make, a mistake fatal to their best interests 
here and hereafter, who imagine that the possession of piety, 
and the faithful discharge of the duties of a Christian life, are 



ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN. 81 



out of harmony with social enjoyment and the exercise of 
social influence. " Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all 
her paths are peace. 1 ' Religion gives the richest enjoyment 
to the mind, the most lasting peace to the heart, and the 
mightiest influence in the life. 

Having considered the importance of character, and some 
of the lines along which you ought specially to seek its devel- 
opment, let me now direct your attention more specifically to 
vour conduct toward each other. 

Form the Habit of 'Expressing Tour Thoughts with Easei 
Elegance, Purity and Tower, both in Co ///position and Com- 
pany. — The most important thing is to have thoughts worth 
expressing, and next in importance is the ability to express 
them in a pleasing and effective manner. The young man or 
young woman who is content with mere facts, and does not 
seek to know their causes, who does not form a habit of reflec- 
tion and investigation, will have few thoughts worth uttering 
in public. Thought rules the world, yet even the best 
thoughts are shorn of their natural power and glory if dressed 
in ungrammatical language, or uttered in bad style. A 
knowledge of the principal rules of grammar is very necessary, 
but a careful reading, and re-reading of the best authors, and 
much association with good conversationalists, are even more 
essential. Some people, who are quite ignorant of the rules of 
grammar, speak very correctly, and some who know them 
well, violate them with shocking impunity. Man}', who know 
a good deal well worth expressing in company, are very poor 
conversationalists, because of lack of training and practice, or 
because of mental dyspepsia — their knowledge lying unused 
in the mind, like so much useless lumber, a rude and undi- 
gested mass. Such persons need to form habits of orderly 
thought and concise expression, and, for this purpose, should 
6 



82 



YOU AND I. 



make a practice of arranging and writing their thoughts until 
facility be acquired. Be assured, young friends, if you would 
have influence in society, this rlne art of speech must be 
acquired. Without this, even with wealth, beauty and grace 
of manner on your side, you will And yourself distanced in the 
race by others having fewer advantages, who have acquired 
the ability to express their thoughts with precision, force and 
elegance. How often do we And society at the feet -of some 
gifted talker who, it may be, has no other social distinction. 
In aspiring to eloquence in conversation, the following brief 
directions may be of use: — iVvoid curiosity respecting other 
people, which is usually a mark of poor breeding. Do not 
listen, if you can help it, to any family affairs, or to any 
account of the mistakes and follies of other people. Encour- 
age no gossips with a hearing. Never repeat what was not 
intended for repetition, or what would do harm if repeated. 
Avoid egotism in your conversation, making as few references 
to yourself as possible. Your wealth, exploits and position in 
society should seldom, if ever, be alluded to by yourself. The 
same rule should be observed with regard to your peculiar 
views upon religion, politics and public questions likely to 
produce strife. Avoid argument, which is seldom beneAcial, 
and often provokes resentment. Remember that all your con- 
duct in society, and particularly your conversation, should be 
based upon the Golden Rule. Cultivate the kindliest feelings 
toward all. Be charitable in your judgment, and avoid cen- 
suring others, especially the absent. Form the valuable habit 
of thinking kindly of others, and kind speech will follow kind 
thought. Never willingly injure the feelings of another. If 
you have wit, use it to please, but not to lacerate. The best 
wit shines, but does not cut. u It may be doubted, 11 says a 
celebrated writer, " if any person, famous for satirical retorts, 
can be at heart either a true gentleman, or a true lady." 



ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN. 83 



Above all things, avoid falling into the dreadful habit of carp- 
ing, criticizing and fault-finding. Practice constant civility in 
speech toward all with whom you come in contact. Nothing 
is more charming in the conduct of young people than this 
genuine civility, when shown toward parents and teachers ; and 
it has equal charm and grace, when shown toward dependents. 
Aim constantly at correct and elegant language, make an 
intimate acquaintance and hold frequent intercourse with the 
English grammar, and dictionary. Notice carefully every 
mistake made by others, not to criticise, but that you may 
avoid the same. Resolve that you will never use an incorrect 
or inelegant expression. Preserve an elevated tone of conver- 
sation. I do not mean, of course, by this a stiff and stilted 
style of speech upon topics beyond your comprehension, but 
simply that the subject should never be trivial or nonsensical, 
and that the language should never descend to slang or vul- 
garity. Listen attentively and patiently to others, not seeking 
to monopolize the conversation. " The best talkers are the 
best listeners." Patience is the first of all the social virtues, 
and silence and attention her most useful handmaids. Defer- 
ence to the rights, opinions and even prejudices of others, adds 
beauty to the conduct. Young ladies should remember that 
they have a special mission in the cultivation and use of line 
conversational powers. Yours it is to be agreeable to all, to 
relieve the embarrassment of the timid, to call out, by the 
magnetism of your presence and powers of speech, the talent 
of the company, and to become the inspiration of your social 
circle. The groups of genius that appear here and there in 
history have almost invariably been formed around women of 
cultured conversation. The intellect of Greece once knelt 
at the feet of the beautiful and talented Aspasia, and in the 
French salons of the last century, women were acknowledged 
as queens in conversation. Even the wit and polish of Lord 



84 



YOU AND I. 



Chesterfield was derived, as he tells us, from assiduously cul- 
tivating the society of ladies. So, in every age where the 
interchange of ideas in speech has risen into the dignity of a 
fine art? it has been largely so by woman's inspiration 
and talent. 

Cultivate the Graces of Character — Modesty, Humility, 
Sympathy. — Nothing can atone for a lack of modesty in 
woman, and it is no less graceful and beautiful in the character 
of man. 

" Humility, that low, sweet root, 
From which all heavenly virtues shoot," 

is compatible with the greatest strength of character, and 
imparts to it increased influence, by rendering it attractive in 
the eyes of others. Yet, of all the graces of character the one 
most essential for the exercise of influence is sympathy. Well 
does Sir Walter Scott write : 

u It is the secret sympathy, 
The silver link, the silken tie, 
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, 
In body and in soul can bind." 

Sympathy is that disposition which prompts us to rejoice 
with those that rejoice, and weep with those that weep. By 
it we bear, in part, the burden of others, sharing their suffer- 
ings, difficulties and discouragements. "We often do more 
good," says Cannon Farrar, " by our sympathy than by our 
labors, and render the world a more lasting service, by 
absence of jealousy and by recognition of merit in others, than 
we could ever render by the straining efforts of personal ambi- 
tion." This touch of nature that "makes the whole world 
kin," is the channel through which the mightiest influence 
flows into other hearts and lives. Cultivate it, then, by daily 



ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN. 85 



taking interest in others, and living, in part at least, for your 
companions. 

Preserve Intact that Walt of Modest Reserve Nature has 
set up Between the Sexes. — Every young woman, if true to 
herself and her own best interests, will permit no liberties, 
either of language or of conduct, on the part of young gentle- 
men. The young woman who imagines that by submitting to 
such indignities she is simply making herself agreeable, and 
thus increasing her influence, makes a serious and sad mistake. 
No young man can truly respect a young woman with whom 
he can indulge in liberties of speech or demeanor. The young 
woman who has not the self-respect to rebuke such a liberty 
is just as lacking in sense as self-respect. 

Cultivate Moral Courage to Rebuke Wrong-doing, even in 
your Friends, and Exert your Influence to Correct their 
Faults, or, if need be, Reform their Character. — What a 
grand field of usefulness and of reward is opened to young 
women in their associations with young men. Instead of yield- 
ing quiet assent to the expensive, hurtful and foolish habits of 
their friends, and thus encouraging wrong, they might, by the 
exercise of moral courage and a little genuine self-respect, induce 
reform. If the young woman of culture and social influence were 
once thoroughly enlisted in social reform, tobacco, wine and gam- 
bling would soon become unpopular, and the world would gain 
immeasurably thereby. Shame on the young woman who in 
her soul hates the smell of the dirty weed, and yet out of 
cowardice declares she is not disturbed in the least by tobacco 
smoke — that she likes the smell of a cigar! Shame on the 
young woman who, knowing the dangerous and deadly 
results of strong drink, will, either from custom or from fear 
of offending some one, lend the sanction of her presence or 
example to wine ! The young woman of society to-day whose 



YOU AXD I. 



voice and example are. not thrown upon the side of temper- 
ance is sadly lacking in either head or heart. Be not deceived, 
young lady, indifference on this question, with the facts of the 
world's sufferings before you, is not merely weakness — it is 
wickedness! How many thousands of women, now wedded 
to drunkards, gamblers, or libertines, might at one time by 
the loving word of entreaty, or the eloquence of example, have 
rescued a soul from death, and in saving another, have saved 
themselves! After all that woman has suffered on account of 
strong drink, there is positively no excuse for the woman who 
countenances the social drinking customs of to-day. What 
shall we say of the young woman who sanctions them by 
either wine-bibbing herself, or putting the social glass to the 
lips of others? This is the one unpardonable sin of social life 
to-day, and tens of thousands of women have committed it, 
and now rind no place for repentance, though they seek it 
carefully with tears! 

Pay Careful Attention to Dress, Manners and Appear- 
ance. — Character is, of course, the great essential ; yet 
appearance and manners have very great effect in increasing 
or decreasing its power. Character is the jewel; these the 
casket in which it often lies hidden. The world does not 
always recognize the jewel, and a part of mankind are foolish 
enough to think more of the casket than of what it contains. 
The wearing of neat and becoming dress is a duty you owe: 
to society, for we have no right to needlessly offend the taste 
of our friends. All striking effects and defects should be 
avoided. There is a loud style of talking and laughing that 
is exceedinglv offensive to all persons of refinement, and there 
is a loud style of dressing that is equally distasteful. Bright 
colors and striking effects are aimed at by the savages of the 
plain, and by the ill-bred of civilized life. Aim at that style 



AS SO CI A TIONS OF YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN. 87 



of dress which is best suited to yourself, in which you can 
feel and act most naturally, and which will least attract the 
attention or remark of others. Remember that neatness, 
cleanliness and appropriateness are always in fashion. No 
matter how excellent your character, your influence in society 
will be greatly lessened by slovenly dress or boorish appear- 
ance or manner. Unclean hands, soiled clothing, unkempt 
locks, or an ill-fitting garment will mar the effect of the best 
speech, or the sweetest song. Although all good manners are 
based upon the commandment, " Thou shall love thy neighbor 
as thyself," yet it is very important that young people should 
learn and practice the forms in which this love for one's 
neighbor expresses itself in refined society. Pleasing address 
opens the way to human hearts, and thus aids the outflow of 
influence from character. Chesterfield must have had a very 
high estimate of its value, for he declared "A young man 
might better return a dropped fan genteely, than give ten 
thousand pounds awkwardly." The charming manners of 
the Duke of Marlborough often changed an enemy into a 
friend, and it is said that it was pleasanter to be refused a 
favor by him than to receive one from others. Cultivate, 
then, diligently this "finest of the fine arts." 

Cultivate Candor and Sincerity in Speech, and Natural- 
ness in Conduct. — When young ladies and young gentlemen 
meet in the home, let there be none of that stiffness and form- 
ality and acting of a part, which are so often found in society. 
"Why should there be so much dissembling of real sentiment? 
so much pretended admiration for what is not admired ? so 
much assumption in manner, voice and face of what is not 
experienced in the heart ? I would have young people always 
maintain that "modest reserve" of which I have spoken; yet 
surely this is entirely compatible with the utmost geniality and 



88 



YOU AND I. 



naturalness of conduct. These social deceptions, practiced 
upon each other by young men and young women, by mask- 
ing of their real sentiments, and assuming an unnatural expres- 
sion of countenance, tone of voice, mode of speech and conduct, 
are responsible for very serious results to themselves. Aside 
from the injury inflicted upon their moral nature by this volun- 
tary deception, it is an undoubted fact, that many young 
people associate for a long time without ever becoming truly 
acquainted, and many, who imagine themselves sufficiently 
acquainted to choose each other as life companions, become 
acquainted with each other's real character only after marriage. 
Let there be, I pray you, an honest expression of your own 
views and opinions of your own. Candor and sincerity are 
two of the great charms of childhood, and are equally charm- 
ing in young men and women, though more rarely exhibited. 
What could be more pleasing than to hear from the pouting 
lips of a child, the confession, "I do not like you one bit?" 
And what is more refreshing, in this age of sham and pretence, 
than an honest expression of opinion and an independent course 
of conduct by young people, when in direct opposition to 
public opinion and custom. 

Aim to Inspire Tour Associates with Love of the True, 
the Beautiful and the Good, and to Interest and Enlist them 
in Christian Work. — Woman's grand mission is to inspire, 
encourage and help man in the upward path of duty, self- 
sacrifice and benevolence. Every young woman ought to 
recognize this as her special mission, and to seek to make her 
character, her example and her conversation a mighty inspir- 
ation to noble living. The surest and most effective method 
of interesting your companions in any good work, is to become 
intensely interested in it yourself. Zeal is infectious, and its 
glow pervades, unconsciously, every act of life. In the social 



ASSOCIATIONS OF YOUNG MEN AND YOUNG WOMEN. 39 

circle, of which she is the centre, the young woman wields a 
power greater than that of all the rest of society combined. 
Your language, sentiment and example must here be all-potent 
for good or ill. Be assured, if your influence, efforts and 
example, under divine blessing, will not correct the faults, 
reform the character and ennoble the life of a young man 
admitted to your society and friendship, no other power under 
heaven cam do it. You hold your own and another's destiny 
largely in your keeping. 





BOOKS AND ASSOCIATES. 



BY 



GEO. W. WILLI ARD, D. D. 




HERE is no period 
of time of which it 
could be more 
truthfully said that " of 
making books there is 
no end," than of the 
present. The country 
is literally flooded with 
:s upon almost every imaginable topic — 
books, good, bad and indifferent — so as to suit 
and in many cases pander to the tastes of the 
people. And yet, great as this enterprise is, it is perhaps 
not more so than in other departments of life, show- 
ing the wonderful energy and activity of the age in which 
we live. 

There is, also, as any one must see, an unusual amount 
of intelligence, and a thirst for knowledge. Men run to and 
fro after knowledge, and are eager for what is new and old 
so that as soon any book is brought before the public, at 
all adapted to the times, there are thousands to purchase and 
read it, thus making a great demand for books. So great,. 

90 



YOU AND I. 



91 



indeed, is the thirst for knowledge, that no individual or family 
ought to be without books. They have become an indispens- 
able article in every well regulated family, where the means 
are at hand to purchase them; parents should regard it as 
much their duty to provide for the intellectual culture of their 
children, as they do to feed and clothe them; it is as great a 
wrong to impoverish the mind as it is to stint or dwarf 
the body. 

How many books ought to constitute the family library no 
one can tell, as this will depend largely on the size of the 
family, the desire there is for reading, and the means at hand 
for their purchase. This much, however, may be said, that 
no family ought to be without some books of a devotional, 
historical, biographical, social, literary and scientific character, 
aside from the journals of the day, so that intelligence may be 
as widely diffused as the air we breathe. Better, far better, 
do without the luxuries of life, better exercise rigid self-denial 
in regard to many things deemed necessary, than have no 
books. No one who has not had access to a well selected 
family library can tell the advantage and benefit it is to the 
children growing up to manhood or womanhood, and how it 
tends to add to the pleasures and endearments of home. Many 
a young man might, and in all probability would have been 
saved from the shame and degradation of a mis-spent life had 
he found at home the entertainment and pleasure he sought 
on the streets and in the company of wicked associates. 

Imagine for a moment the condition in which we would be 
had we no books. What an intellectual death there would 
be; a famine worse than that which affected Egypt and 
Ireland, when they had no bread! Had our fathers written 
and handed down to us no books, what would be known of 
the past, the growth and dispersion of the race, the rise and 
fall of empires, the establishment of different religions, the cus~ 



92 



BOOKS AND ASSOCIATES. 



toms, manners, habits and intellectual achievements of nations ? 
The past would be to us mostly a blank, as there is little reli- 
ance to be put in traditions when they have passed through 
the coloring of a century or two. Had no books come down 
to us through the ages that are past, it is not at all probable 
that we would have made the progress in the arts and sciences 
we have, or that we would enjoy the refining, elevating and 
Christianizing influence of this nineteenth century. The books 
stored away in our libraries, many of which are soiled and 
torn from the use or abuse made of them, and perhaps read 
but little, being superseded by others of a more recent date, 
are still valuable to us, for reference, if for nothing else, con- 
taining, as they do, the views, researches and general intelli- 
gence of the age in which they were written. No one of the 
present day, if he should undertake to write a general history 
of the world, as Sir Walter Raleigh did, could do so with any 
exactness, if he did not have before him the histories of the 
different nations written and handed down by those who pre- 
ceded him. What would we know of the discoveries of the 
past, when and by whom made, had they not been carefully 
recorded and transmitted to us? No one could write an intel- 
ligent and exhaustive treatise on art, science, religion, .or any 
of the general topics of the day, if he were to ignore or disre- 
gard the researches of the past. It would be worse than folly 
for any one to attempt a lecture on philosophy, if he had never 
read Plato, Aristotle, Bacon, Descartes, Kant or Reed; or to 
give a treatise on any particular science if he had not made 
himself acquainted with the writings of those who preceded 
him; or to instruct us in the deep and difficult problems of 
theology, if he knew nothing of the history of Christian doc- 
trine, and had never read anything on the subject. No age 
or individual can be severed from the past. The world rolls 
on like a mighty stream in the even tenor of its way, gather- 



YOU AND I. 



93 



ing tributaries from every age and nation, so that the farther 
it goes, the greater and more numerous are the blessings 
which it has to dispense, reminding us of the rich legacy we 
have in the books that have come clown to us, containing the 
researches and investigations of the masters of thought in the 
past, many of whom have been raised up, as it would seem,, 
by Providence to do the work they did. The world would 
be stripped of much of its wealth, if it were, by some misfor- 
tune, to lose the writings of Athanasius, Augustine, Luther, 
Calvin, Dante, Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Milton, not to say 
anything of the long array of names that come crowding 
in upon us as we write or read. Let us then be thankful 
for the precious inheritance we have in the books that have 
come down to us through the ages, containing richer treasures 
than all the mines of gold that have been discovered. 

But books have many uses beside linking us to the past and 
laying its treasures at our feet. To speak of all these in an 
article of a few pages is impossible. All we can hope to do 
is merely to throw out, here and there, a few hints which may 
suggest such thoughts as will lead to a more thorough investi- 
gation of the subject. The mind is naturally inquisitive, and 
is ever in search of something new and better. We can no 
more repress or chain its activities than we can arrest the 
motion of the wind. Men will think and reflect. Even 
children give signs of great inquisitiveness in the many ques- 
tions they ask, which would often puzzle the greatest philoso- 
phers to answer. 

Books subserve a good purpose in that they foster and 
direct the natural thirst for knowledge which is common to 
man, and urge him on to pursue it in its diversified forms. 
Any book, worth reading, will, if attentively perused, quicken 
the latent powers of the mind, broaden its views, and may put 
it on the way to high intellectuality and eminence. It is 



94 



BOOKS AXD ASSOCIATES. 



remarkable how a little incident, occurring in youth, or read 
from a book, may change the current of a life, and lead to the 
most wonderful results. The reading of Robinson Crusoe is 
said to have rilled many a boy's head with ideas so new and 
strange, that he had no rest until he had given himself up to 
the life of a sailor. If the history of men's lives were all writ- 
ten. it would doubtless appear that many of those whose names 
are inscribed high on the scroll of fame were influenced to 
take the course they did by a book which they had read in 
early life. Especially has this result been produced by the 
many excellent biographies of the good men who have left 
their impress on the world, verifying what has been so beauti- 
fully and truthfully said by the poet: 

" Lives of great men all remind us, 

We can make our lives sublime, 
And departing, leave behind us 

Footprints on the sands of time ; 

Footprints, that perhaps another, 

Sailing o'er life's solemn main. 
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother. 

Seeing, shall take heart again." 

Books are also of great use in that the}* furnish the nourish- 
ment necessary to the growth and expansion of the mind, 
which, although spiritual in its nature, can no more live and 
gain strength without its proper support than the body can 
grow and develop its various members independently of whole- 
some and nutritive food. As the body becomes diseased and 
effeminate when left to suffer hunger, so the mind and heart 
fail to perform their proper work when their cravings are not 
satisfied. What bread is to the physical constitution, books 
are to the soul ; from this we may learn the great wrong prac- 
ticed upon the young and rising generation when no proper 
provision is made for their intellectual improvement. Parents 



YOU AND I. 



95 



greatly err in this repect when they provide for their children, 
in great abundance, the food and clothing necessary for their 
bodily growth and comfort, while they make little or no pro- 
vision for their education, and not unfrequently speak of it as 
though it were of little advantage, if not in some instances a 
wrong. One can hardly have patience with these false notions 
in this enlightened age. And yet there is great reason to be 
hopeful when we think of the progress that has been made 
within the last century, and the increased facilities that are 
brought within the reach of all, the poor as well as the rich, 
for obtaining a liberal education and having such a supply of 
books, at a moderate expense, as will satisfy their intellectual 
thirst. 

It is certainly gratifying to those interested in the progress 
of society and the elevation of the race, to look out upon the 
world and see the laudable efforts put forth to make provisions 
for the culture and education of the mind in the schools and 
colleges of the day, and in the books written upon almost 
•every imaginable subject in a style so simple and glowing as 
to interest the dullest intellect. Such, indeed, are the pro- 
visions in this respect that they are hardly less abundant than 
those which are made for the support and maintenance of the 
body, making it as inexcusable for any one to impoverish the 
mind when the means are at hand for its healthful culture and 
education, as it would be to allow the body to suffer for the 
want of food, when it is within the reach of all. 

Books are written and published to be read and studied, 
and not as mere ornaments for the parlor table, or book case. 
Some persons seem to have as great a mania for books, as 
others have for pictures and flowers, and purchase every book 
that is thrown upon the market, without any regard to its 
character, and in this way accumulate large libraries, which 
are of no practical benefit to them. Any book worth pur- 



96 



BOOKS AND ASSOCIATES. 



chasing, and a place in the library, ought to be read and 
studied, otherwise it will be of no profit, and its purchase 
must be regarded an unwise expenditure of money. 

Without attempting to lay down any positive rule in the 
purchase of books, it may be said, in general, that no book that 
does not afford food for the mind, that does not strengthen its 
powers, that adds nothing to our store of knowledge, that is 
not suggestive of useful thoughts and reflections, that does 
not incite to a higher and better life, that is not elevating or 
refining, is not worth reading. Life is too short, its oppor- 
tunities and privileges too important, its work too great and 
pressing, and eternity too near, to waste our time in reading 
books that yield no profit, especially when others may be had 
at no greater expense, the perusal of which will always be 
refreshing and beneficial. 

It may be added that there is one book, and one only, that 
ought above all others to find a place in every library, and be 
read by all, the young and the old, the rich and the poor, the 
learned and the unlearned — a book hoary with age and yet 
always new and fresh — a book wonderful in its contents and 
purpose which, while no one can fully comprehend it, may yet 
be believed by all — a book of the purest morality and richest 
comfort — a book maligned and spoken against by infidels and 
men of reprobate minds, yet loved and read with increasing 
interest — a book that has a balm for every sorrow, a cordial 
for all our fears, and a cure for all the pains, aches and ills of 
life — a book that reveals God in all the perfection of his nature 
as the only proper object of worship and devotion — a book 
that tells so sweetly the story of Jesus and his love, that no 
one can read it, if he will but enter into the spirit of it, with- 
out being moved by the constraining love of Christ to give 
himself up to a Christian life. This book, if I need name it, 



YOU AND I. 



97 



is the Bible, the book of books, God's own book, of which it 
may be truthfully said: 

" Bright as a lamp its doctrines shine, 
To guide our souls to heaven." 

But good as books are, and many as are the purposes 
which they serve, they are not all we need. Our nature has 
many sides and is wonderfully complex, so that books alone 
can not meet its diversified wants. Constituted as we are, we 
need human associates as well as books, persons with whom 
we can converse, and to whom we can unbosom our joys and 
sorrows, our hopes and fears, who, having the same tastes and 
being of the same turn of mind as ourselves, can enter into 
our feelings, and so help us in our life's work. No one, when 
true to himself, can cut himself off from the society and inter- 
course of the world, and live the life of a hermit, or ascetic. 
To do so would be to practice a wrong upon himself and 
repress some of the noblest instincts and aspirations of his 
nature. Hence Shakespeare, who is said to have sounded 
the depths of our nature and to have analyzed its secret work- 
ings as few can do, has said: 

" This above all. To thine own self be true, 
And it must follow, as the night the day, 
Thou canst not then be false to any man." 

No man is entirely without associates; for even the most 
hateful misanthropes, the most censorious critics, who are all 
the while denouncing the follies and vices of the age, and the 
most rigid reformers, have their companions who are of like 
views and feelings, and they would be miserable if they had 
none to sympathize with them. The men who come nearest 
to being hermits by living secluded and alone, are usually 
cold, heartless, censorious and ill-natured, and have, as they 
give, little sympathy; they are to be pitied in their solitude 

7 



93 



BOOKS AXD ASSOCIATES. 



and desolation. It may, therefore, be laid down as a rule, 
that all those who desire to live noble, useful lives, and accom- 
plish the true end of their being, have their associates, with 
whom they often take counsel, and in whose society they 
delight. 

With associates, as with books, no rules can be laid down 
as to how many it is safe to have and how much time should 
be spent in their company, as this will depend on circum- 
stances of which each one must judge for himself. Yet it is 
easy to see how those of a cheerful and social turn of mind 
may readily transcend the bounds of propriety, and spend 
more time in the company of associates than is generally con- 
sidered profitable. This much, however, may be said with 
safety, that whenever our associates become so numerous as 
to encroach upon the necessary work and business of life, and 
the society of comrades so fascinating and entangling as to 
lead to the perpetration of deeds which our better judgment 
condemns, it is time to draw back and assert our manhood 
and independence. 

But good and necessary as it is to have associates among 
our equals, we should never forget that there is one whose 
society and fellowship we should seek above all others, — 
the one in whom we live and move and have our being, 
and from whom we receive every good and perfect gift, our 
Maker, Preserver, Benefactor and Redeemer, the God and 
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and through him our Father. 
To walk with him as we pass along through life, to have a 
little talk with Jesus amid the hurry and business of the day, 
and have the comforting fellowship of the Holy Spirit, is a 
boon and safeguard of greater value than all the favor and 
friendship of the world. 

Having said this much concerning books and associates, 
this article would be incomplete were no mention made of the 



YOU AND I. 



99 



care and precaution necessary in their selection, for, judge as 
charitably as we may, there is no disguising the fact that the 




moral effect of many books 
and associates is pernicious. 
And how can it be otherwise 
so long as the country is flood- 
ed with the light, trashy, vul- 
gar literature that is thrown 
upon the market, and dissemi- 
nated through the land at a 
nominal price, and read by the 
masses! Many innocent and H 
unsuspecting youths reading 
these obscene books in which 
vice, a monster of frightful mien when seen in its native ugliness, 



WHAT WOULD MOTHER SAY 



100 



BOOKS AND ASSOCIATES. 



is so gilded, and associated with what is alluring and attractive, 
are enticed thereby and led from one act of sin to another^ 
until they are lost to all shame, and even glory in their degrada- 
tion. A man might as well eat unwholesome and poisonous 
food and expect the body to remain healthy and strong, as to 
feed the mind or heart with obscene literature, and expect it 
to retain its native vigor and purity. And yet how' sad to 
say that, with all the warnings that are given, and the fearful 
wrecks that lie strewn all along the path of dissipation 
obscene books and bad associaties are not feared and shunned 
as they should be. 

But how, it may be asked, are we to counteract the evils 
resulting from bad books and bad associates? Both have 
their charms and are palatable to the corrupt heart, which 
rolls sin of every form under the tongue as a sweet morsel. 
Some there are, who, seeing the increasing tide of wickedness, 
and the little support that is often given to law and order by 
those in authority, despair of any great reformation, not to 
speak of the entire suppression of the evil. And yet, if we 
have faith in God and the regenerating influence of His grace, 
we have every reason to believe that He will in His own time 
and way, bring this and every other evil to an end, and fill 
the world with righteousness and peace. We may not live 
to see and rejoice in this blessed state of things, as it may, 
for aught we know, be long in coming. Yet we can labor 
according to our ability to bring it about. God, as we know, 
works through human agencies, and has been pleased to make 
us co-workers with Him in accomplishing His plans, and He 
will not, by a mere exercise of His power, eradicate any evil 
from the world. This is the work of His church and people, 
so that there is a fearful responsibility resting upon us in refer- 
ence to the suppression of evil in its varied forms, and the 
sooner we are made to realize it the better. 



YOU AND I. 



101 



There is reason to hope for a better state of things in the 
near future in view of what has been and is being done for 
the suppression of evil. Never before in the history of the 
church have good men been so earnest and so ready to work 
for the speedy establishment of God's kingdom in the world. 
The church is arming herself for the conflict. Look where 
we may, we see great victories won and advances made in 
the overthrow of the kingdom of Satan. Many of the out- 
posts of the enemy have been taken, Christians of all denomi- 
nations are combining their forces, and evince a boldness and 
determination to maintain the right, as never before. The 
signs of the times are hopeful and seem to indicate that the 
Lord is preparing the way for the universal spread of His 
kingdom. May the day be speedily ushered in. 




EARLY TRAINING. 



BY 



JOHN H. YOUNG, A. M. 




HILDHOOD shows the man," 
says Milton, " as morning shows 
the day." Is it not, therefore, of 
vital importance that childhood should be 
surrounded with everything that can assist in 
elevating, purifying, strengthening, — everything 
that will cherish good impulses and overcome inclina- 
tions to evil, — everything that is true and honest, simple 
and generous in our nature ? It is in childhood that the 
temper can be curbed and disciplined, and the wayward will 
brought into subjection. It is in childhood that the intellect, 
like virgin soil, lies open to the reception of golden seed; it 
is in childhood that impressions are received that communi- 
cate their coloring to later life. It is in childhood that the 
" natural instinct " is most plastic and can be moulded after 
the highest model. The early influences of home are never 
forgotten. The earliest lessons learned are best remembered. 

102 



YOU AND I. 



103 



What a youth will become, what position he will secure in 
society, or in a profession or business, when he has reached 
manhood, may often be inferred from his home, and home 
influences and surroundings. We never see a great and good 
man without feeling sure that the home atmosphere he 
breathed in his youthful years was pure and healthy. Child- 
hood is both receptive and imitative; it absorbs all that is 
poured into it. 

The most potent influence which humanity acknowledges, 
is that of woman; the most potent influence in childhood is 
the mother's. We are, to a very great extent, what our 
mothers make us. The lessons learned from their loving lips 
are the lessons which abide with us to the grave; the pra} 7 ers 
said at our mother's knee will linger in our memories when 
life's winter blasts shall have chilled our decaying frames, and 
the sunset is reddening toward the night. Well might George 
Herbert say, " One good mother is worth a hundred school- 
masters." 

Great Men's Mothers. — We can not have a St. Augustine 
without a Monica. Washington, Lincoln, Bishop Simpson, 
Garfield, Lee, — how much did they not owe to the early 
training of their mothers? In each case the maternal impres- 
sion was strongly apparent. The fruit grew out of seed sown 
by the mother's hand. John Randolph, the great statesman, 
writing to a friend in his old age, says : " I should have been 
an atheist if it had not been for one recollection, and that was 
the time when my departed mother used to take my little 
hand in hers and cause me, on my knees, to say, ' Our Father 
who art in heaven.'" Lord Langdale, in his consciousness of 
his mother's early teaching, exclaimed: "Were the whole 
world put in one scale, and my mother in the other, the world 
would kick the beam." 



104 



EARLY TRAINING. 



Early Associations. — The youth's aspirations, though 
largely controlled by home influences, will also be not a little 
swayed by the influence of companionship. Show us the 
man's friends and vou show us the man himself. In the sonsr 
of the Persian poet, Sadi, the poet asks a clod of clay how it 
has come to smell so fragrant. " The sweetness is not in my- 
self," says the clay, "but I have been lying in contact with the 
rose." Those higher qualities, to which our character may 
need a building up, we must obtain by cultivating worthy 
friends of lofty and noble character, and cherishing the highest 
aspirations. It is in this way that we shall be fitted to form a 
loftier ideal of life. 

The friends of Robert E. Lee were accustomed to say of 
him that no one could come in contact with his noble mind 
and heart without being in some manner ennobled, and lifted 
up into a higher region of aims and objects. 

Friends. — " If thou wouldst get a good friend for thy 
children," says an old writer, "prove him first, and be not 
hasty to credit him, for some are friends for their own occasion, 
and will not abide in the day of trouble. A faithful friend is 
a strong defense, and he that hath found such a one hath found 
a treasure; a faithful friend is the medicine of life." These 
precautions are worthy of being remembered, for our choice 
of a career in life, and our successful pursuit of it, will depend, 
in a greater degree than we imagine, on the impulses we 
receive from our friends, an impulse sufficiently powerful at 
times to counteract the wise lessons and sacred examples of 
the home. If we choose worthy friends, our lives will be 
worthy; or, as George Herbert says, "Keep good company, 
and you will be of the number." Herbert's mother wrote 
similar words of wisdom: "As our bodies take in nourish- 
ment suitable to the meat on which we feed, so do our souls 



YOU AND I. 



105 



as insensibly take in virtue or vice by the example or conver- 
sation of good or bad companions." 

The inspiration of example is felt by all generous natures, 
and one of the greatest services rendered to humanity by our 
poets, artists, patriots and heroes, is the suggestions they give, 
by their lives, of all that is best and loftiest to young minds. 
The example of a good and great man is like a light-house: 
it not only warns, but directs; not only indicates the point of 
danger, but guides safely into port. No sermon can be so 
eloquent as a noble and heroic life; for it teaches us how poor 
and common-place would be our own lives, if never elevated 
by worthy deeds, and never illuminated by generous thoughts. 
Nothing that is good or bad is without its influence. Of 
deeds or words whatever is good or whatever is bad produces 
corresponding influences. They are like seed sown in fertile 
soil, the thistle chokes the clover, and the soil is worse than 
barren. Whether good or bad they are contagious and wide- 
spreading. They make others good or bad, and these, others ; 
as a stone, thrown into a pond, makes circles that make 
wider ones, till the last reaches the shore, so the electric spark 
of character shoots all along the chain, from link to link. 

The causes which operate upon us in determining our aims 
in life are many; sometimes it is an accident which touches 
the hidden spring and throws wide the gate through which 
the adventurer passes into the land of fortune; a sudden 
impulse may evoke the " natural instinct " and set the feet in 
the path they are best adapted to pursue. Hall, the arctic 
explorer, was inspired by the perusal of the narratives of 
earlier explorers. But most of us can not wait for such inspi- 
ration, nor do we need to. Our vocations in life are humbler 
and less exciting. It is well if our calling be honest, and in 
that calling we do our best ; if it be adapted to the measure of 



106 



EARLY TRAINING. 



our powers, and not in opposition to our natural bias, we shall 
have no occasion to repine. Whatever be the aim in life, let 
it be honest in itself, and honestly pursued. 

The Path of Life. — It is not difficult to discover the a path 
of life " which can be followed with the greatest success. The 
" natural instinct " reveals itself in many ways, and the taste of 
the boy foreshadows the occupation of the man. If the youth 
display a predilection or love for any particular calling, that 
feeling, if the occupation be honorable, should be fostered and 
encouraged by the parents. Ferguson's clock, carved out of 
wood and supplied with the rudest machinery ; the boy Davy's 
laboratory in the garret ; Faraday's tiny electric machine, made 
with a common bottle; Chantrey's carved image of his school- 
master's head; Watt's experiments with steam, with his 
mother's old iron tea-kettle, — all were indications, clear and 
strong, of the future man. Not only was the natural bias to 
persevere present, but also the talent and will. What might 
have been the career, had the early training not been in sym- 
pathy with the " natural instinct," may never be known, but 
the wise parent, in each instance, began early to encourage the 
honorable calling which was destined to be that of the man. 

A man's career in life is more frequently fixed by the 
mother's influence and early training than by the father's, 
and it is to be observed that the mother generally 
shows a much more subtle sympathy with the " natural 
instinct " of her children, more correctly estimates their 
capabilities and more fully understands their tastes than 
the father. It is the mother who heals all the little wounds 
and heart-aches, and hears the little tales they have to tell; to 
her they go with their sorrows, and are listened to with all the 
tender sympathy of woman's nature. It is the mother who is 
always ready for a frolic with the little ones as they are dis- 



YOU AND /. 



107 



robed at eventide, who trots them on her foot and sings the 
lullaby that shall put them to bed happy. It is she whose rule 




of love sends each child to its nightly repose with a smile on 
its lips as it utters its sweet " Now I lay me down to sleep." 



108 



EARLY TRAINING. 



It is due to her gentle treatment that they are more tractable 
and useful in the morning, that they will have happier memo- 
ries of their childhood when they have flown from the home 
nest and gone out into the unsympathizing world. Is it 
strange, then, that we enshrine in our hearts as a household 
saint the mother who gave us the good-night kiss, with smiles 
and benedictions every night of our early lives? 

It was to the fostering care and wise guidance of his 
mother that Sheffer, the German artist, owed the develop- 
ment of his intellect. When he was pursuing his studies 
at Paris she wrote him: "Work diligently; above all, 
be modest, humble and courteous, and when you find your- 
self excelling others, then compare what you have done 
with nature itself, or with the ideal of your own mind, 
and you will be secured by the contrast, which will be 
apparent, against the effect of pride and presumption." Lord 
Lytton ascribed his literary success to the early impulse given 
to his talent by the cultivated taste of his accomplished 
mother. From his mother the poet Burns derived much of 
his fervor of imagination. Henry Clay, the brilliant wit and 
successful statesman, inherited his intellectual qualities from 
his mother. James A. Garfield was largely indebted to the 
energy and vigor of his mother; he also owed not a little to 
the early example of industry of his father. The Vanderbilts, 
the Adamses, the Camerons, the Randolphs, are all indications 
of the inheritance of ability and character from the father's 
side; but as the mother is nearer to the child than the father, 
as her love is deeper and more unselfish, so is her influence 
greater and more enduring. 




A PLEA FOR THE HIGHER EDUCATION' 



OF MOTHERS. 



BY 



F. S. BURTON, B. S., LL. B. 




ODERN civilization plumes itself upon its 
supposed advance over all other civilizations 
\ in the depth and extent of its culture; but 
it is not impossible that it overrates itself. 
This is emphatically the age of the practical. The 
end of all education, it teaches, is to assist in " making a 
for the learner. The intellect must be trained to 
work directly for the sustentation of the body. The test of 
a course or curriculum of study usually is this : — Will it aid one 
who pursues and completes it in his struggle for bread and 
butter ; or, if more ambitious, in accumulating wealth ? Hence, 
this is the age of industrial schools, and business colleges, — of 
classes in cookery, and schools of journalism, — all of which 
institutions are well; but most of which fail because they are 
founded on a mistaken idea of the end to be attained, and are 

109 



110 A PLEA FOR THE HIGHER EDUCATIOX OF MOTHERS. 



hence inadequate to accomplish even the partial results their 
founders have in view at their inception. 

For those whose parents are the possessors of wealth, as the 
tendency runs, thorough intellectual culture, or even the 
semi-culture afforded by these industrial schools, or the better 
class thereof, is regarded as less necessary (in fact, quite un- 
necessary, perhaps, were it not esteemed almost as difficult a 
problem to keep inherited wealth as to accumulate property 
in the first instance), and accomplishment takes the place of 
education. — -polish is sought rather than culture. 

The daughters of the wealthier classes, particularly, do not 
appear to require the fortification against want which, in this 
narrow interpretation of the age, education should give. 
Their " expectations " from parental estates, or promising 
alliances, appear to remove them far beyond any necessity of 
taking upon themselves these plebeian cares. I speak now of 
classes, not of those glorious exceptions ( for such there are) 
to the sordid rule. And with the sons of the rich, why should 
deep culture be an object of anxiety when a certain business 
shrewdness or sharpness of intellect only is the end aimed at. 

How narrow, how trivial, how poor, how pitiful this view 
of life is. a single moment's thought should be sufficient to 
show the intelligent and candid person. If human existence 
has a meaning, — if life is aught but a transitory vapor, — if 
creation itself is not a poor farce — too sad with disappointed 
hopes, stifled aspirations, eternally baffied upward-strugglings, 
and tears and groans of its noblest creatures to excite one 
wretched smile — then, to constitute the true education, some- 
thing more is needed than merely the strengthening or supplying 
of those powers which will enable the learner to grasp and hold 
a little more or less of the dross of the earth men call wealth. 

If there be worth in moral character, if the human soul be 
a sacred thing, if there be a life beyond this life, if there be a 



YOU AND I. 



Ill 



heaven and a God, and a relationship existing which in any 
way gives mortal beings an interest in things high and holy, 
then the nineteenth-century idea of education, in its narrower 
interpretation, is founded on the saddest of mistakes! 

It is an outgrowth of the notion that the principal, if not the 
sole object, of culture is to win wealth, fame, distinction, and, 
so far as it relates to women, it is coupled with another notion 
somewhat older perhaps (and one which this age appears 
more willing to abandon), but equally erroneous, and as sad- 
dening in its effects, viz: that the married woman has little or 
no real existence separate and apart from that of her husband, 
and, as a matter of course, shares in the glory of his achieve- 
ments. This it is which has made it seem unimportant to the 
world whether her mental powers were disciplined or other- 
wise; and hence has it been that, with woman in particular, 
accomplishment has taken the place of deep culture, — the 
ornamental has been aimed at rather than the useful in 
education. 

Every earnest lover of his kind must deplore this tendency 
of the age, which, it would be unfair to deny, it has inherited 
from former ages. 

Not necessary that the minds of the mothers of the human 
race be cultivated! Whose, then? Why the lines: 

"The hand that rocks the cradle 
Is the hand that moves the world!" 

in a pleasant, simple statement convey a weighty truth. But 
a weightier lies behind: The fate through the eternal years 
of progress of every human being, more than upon any 
other merely human circumstance, depends upon what lessons 
have been taught him at his mother's knee, — what influences 
have been breathed into his soul by the being who bore, who 
first loved, and who nurtured him during his earliest and most 
susceptible years ! 



1X2 A PLEA FOR THE HIGHER EDUCATION OF MOTHERS. 

Think of this, mothers, as you gaze into the sweet angel- 
faces of the helpless darlings lying in your arms, — and tremble 
at your responsibility, while you pray for grace and strength 
to enable you to perform aright your mission with the heaven- 
sent little stranger. 




I repeat, if there were no such thing as futurity, — no such 
possibility as a posterity to suffer for our sins of commission, 
or omission, — no hope of a future upward progress, or danger 



YOU AND I. 



113 



of deeper degradation for the race, — no possibility of human 
achievement higher than that of accumulating sordid riches 
for purposes merely temporary and at best so poor, — my posi- 
tion would lose much of its significance, and I had remained 
silent. 

It is, at length, an acknowledged fact of physiology, that the 
child of an intelligent and refined woman will frequently 
inherit its mother's intelligence and refinement, notwithstand- 
ing the coarseness, even vulgarity, of its father; and one acute 
observer and able writer has declared that most men of tran- 
scendent abilities nearly resemble their maternal parent in 
their mental and spiritual constitutions. On the other hand, 
the sons and daughters of a coarse, uncultured mother are 
almost certain to exhibit corresponding intellectual traits, even 
when descended from cultivated and refined people by 
the father. 

Hence, it is almost axiomatic that woman, in relation to the 
weal or woe of posterity, through her peculiar functions as 
mother and nurse, exercises tenfold the power that is exercised 
by man; and according as she employs that power beneficently 
or otherwise, is she a good angel, smiling down upon all suc- 
ceeding ages, or a malignant spirit, the curse of whose exist- 
ence will be felt to the remotest generation! 

"A pebble in the streamlet scant 

Hath turned the course of many a river; 
A dew-drop on the tender plant 

Hath warped the giant oak forever! " 

In the light of these truths, how important must it appear 
that the course of mental and spiritual training marked out for 
woman should be carefully framed with wise reference to the 
development of every noble faculty of her mind and heart, of 
every power of the sweet mother-soul, until that crowning 

earthly glory, perfect womanhood, stands confessed! 

8 



114 A PLEA FOR THE HIGHER EDUCATION OF MOTHERS. 

Motherhood, properly understood and appreciated, is a 
great privilege; but the condition which accompanies this 
privilege, as it does every other we receive in this earthly 
existence, is its exercise under a responsibility correspondingly 
great. 

It appears unnecessary to adduce further matter to enforce 
the chief doctrine sought to be taught in this brief (and hence 
somewhat incomplete and inadequate) article, viz: the neces- 




sity of a higher and a deeper education for mothers ; but we 
desire to point a moral in a matter intimately connected with, 



YOU AND I. 



115 



and a natural outgrowth of this, and then we close. The 
matter referred to is the early training of children. 

The first principle, then, being that sought to be established 
above, viz: Mothers should be properly educated, mentally 
and spiritually. — 

The second should be: So far as practicable, they should 
(and will) themselves care for and conduct the early education 
of their offspring. 

Third, in choosing nurses and governesses when, as in many 
cases, the assistance of these is necessary, all the vigilance and 
care of the educated mother's mind should be exercised that 
a mete companion and trainer of the susceptible infant be 
found. "Just as the twig is bent the tree is inclined," is 
only another manner of stating an important truth enforced 
In a former quotation. 




THE LIBRARY IN THE HOME. 

BY 

CHARLES N. SIMS, D. D. 



HERE are two rooms in the house 
devoted to guests — the parlor 
and the library. The former is 
located, built and furnished for 
L=0 the entertainment of our visiting 
friends. Happy are they who are 
permitted to receive here many true 
friends and congenial acquaintances. Most of the days 
our parlors are silent and empty. Social position, leisure 
and proximity determine largely who enter them, and 
many whose presence we would greatly enjoy can never 
come. 

Into the library we welcome the world's best thinkers and 
singers and teachers. From near and far they gather. Out 
of every country, and from every age they come. The young 
and the old ; the weaver of fancies, the gleaner of facts, the 
builder of philosophies ; the historian and poet ; the statesman 
and the traveler; the man of science and the teacher of 
religion. Out of classic lands, from the bustle and hurry of 
commercial cities, from brilliant courts and lowly hermitages, 
they assemble to grace and bless our homes. And each 

116 




THE LI BRA R Y IN THE HOME. 



117 



noble spirit brings its best gift to enrich the host who enter- 
tains it. 

These guests of the library have left their bodies behind 
them, and are here only by a spiritual, intellectual, immortal 
presence. In each book on our shelves is some soul's best 
thought, some life's best fruitage. In single expressions are 
sometimes garnered months of labor. In single statements, 
truths only found after years of search and investigation. 
You may be sure that whatever was best of the writer, is 
here, winnowed, and refined, and polished. Milton thus 
■speaks: "Books are not absolutely dead things, but do con- 
tain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul 
whose progeny they are: nay, they do preserve, as in a vial, 
the purest efficacy and extraction of that intellect that bred 
them. A good book is the precious life blood of a master 
spirit embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond 
life. When a man writes to the world, he summons up all 
his reason and deliberation to assist him. He searches, medi- 
tates, is industrious, and likely consults and confers with his 
judicious friends. " Collyer says: "Books are a guide in 
youth and an entertainment for age. They support us under 
solitude and keep us from becoming a burden to ourselves. 
They compose our cares and our passions, and lay our dis- 
appointments asleep. When we are weary of the living, we 
repair to the dead who have nothing of peevishness, pride or 
design in their conversation." And these books represent the 
guests of the library. We may assemble here as many as we 
please of the world's worthies. They are quiet, inoffensive 
and considerate friends. Indeed, they become our most 
obedient servants. They speak or are silent according to our 
wishes. They permit us to choose the topics of conversation, 
and then give us their best thoughts and the results of their 
most laborious researches. 



118 



YOU AND I. 



Think of the celebrities you may invite and gather here.. 
Macaulay and Froude, Prescott and Bancroft, Motley and 
Hallam, with their stories of former times and peoples ; Shake- 
speare and Milton, Pope and Dryden, Moore and Byron, 
Wordsworth and Cowper, Browning and Hood, Longfellow 
and Tennyson, will pour forth melody in many keys and 
measures, and will always respond to your call in whatever 
strain you choose. If your humor is for curious stories, Scott 
and Cowper, Dickens and Thackeray, Reade and Hawthorne, 
will feast your spirit with the rarest fancies, and enrich your 
imagination with the most wonderful pictures. And with 
changing moods, Irving will charm you with his sketches and 
stories, or Carlyle and Emerson challenge your closest thought. 
There is no topic or question, no mood or fancy, no field of 
investigation, where some guest of the library will not lead 
and instruct you. Into this rare company we invite whom we 
please, and then converse with whom we will. Surely the 
library is a wonderful room, and its proper management a 
matter of great moment. Many things determine its charac- 
ter and contents — our tastes, the money at our disposal, our 
previous education, our leisure time, and the age and disposi- 
tions of the persons who are to use it. One must choose his 
books as he does his friends, because he is in sympathy with 
them, their subjects, and the methods of their treatment. It 
is as easy to quarrel with books as with living people, and as 
easy to find in them loving companionship and genuine friends. 

A library can not be made to order all at once, no matter 
how much money we can afford to spend upon it. It must 
grow and take shape with the experience of its owner. One 
must become acquainted with books as with persons. A col- 
lection of strange volumes is as unsocial as a crowd of people 
whom we have never before met. 

Some suggestions for creating a library may not be out of 



THE LIBRARY IN THE HOME. 



119 



place here. The beginning should always be the Bible, a dic- 
tionary and an encyclopaedia. These place at our command 
the most important of all truths, information upon the multi- 
tude of subjects that in various ways are brought to our atten- 
tion, with a key to the meaning of all the words of our mother 
tongue. Next comes an authoritative statement of the Chris- 
tian doctrines we profess to believe, and a clear and standard 
defense of them. Then the history of our own people and 
country, affording that knowledge which is the foundation of 
patriotism, and indispensable to the duties of citizenship. Add 
to these a good newspaper giving current events, and a good 
magazine containing the current thought of the times, and you 
have the framework of a library. 

The family of limited means, if it can afford these and 
nothing more, has information enough at hand to make its 
members well-informed citizens in any community. When 
we have knowledge of God, religion, our country, the great 
events of the world's history, and its current deeds and 
thoughts, we are certainly far from being ignorant. 

Having these as essentials, personal tastes may be consulted 
and gratified in the enlargement of the library. Illustrated 
books are to be preferred where illustration is practicable. 
Good pictures are rapid and accurate teachers. Architecture, 
dress, natural history, natural scenery, historic events, specta- 
cular occasions, social conditions, and a thousand things beside, 
may be written in pictures, and be read with equal ease and 
comprehension in all languages and by all classes of people, 
young and old, learned and ignorant. It is also a pleasant 
kind of reading, with which the dullest mind may be inter- 
ested and instructed. The well illustrated book is twice 
written — once in the text, and again in its pictures, and often 
the pleasant contemplation of the latter leads to the careful 



120 



YOU AND I. 



study of the former. Furthermore, many things may be told 
by the illustration for which the types can find no expression. 

Story books, whether adapted to childhood or riper years, 
if well chosen, are always pleasant and valuable additions to 
the library, often possessing a greater value than most people 
imagine. Burns was awakened and inspired for his wonderful 
songs and poems by the stories of an aged " granny " who 
knew all the tales of mystery and witchcraft of the whole 
country. Walter Scott's literary career had its direction 
determined by reading Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry. 
A well told tale is life in the concrete, yet lifted above the 
accidents which so often interrupt the moral tenor of events, 
and disappoint honest and deserving effort; it shows what 
should be the results of a given course of life, and what is the 
natural outworking of given motives and passions. Robinson 
Crusoe, the tales of Hans Andersen, and similar books, will 
make the library a joy to childhood. The old, half fairy story 
of Undine will do any one good. Nor are works of romance 
to be wholly excluded. The writings of few novelists, indeed, 
deserve a place in any library, and by far the larger part of 
all that have been written are not only useless, but positively 
and seriously pernicious. But there are honorable and valu- 
able exceptions. The semi-historical romances of Walter 
Scott, the Indian tales of Fenimore Cooper, the fascinating 
character stories of Dickens, the dainty and unique fancies of 
Hawthorne, are always healthful and profitable when properly 
read. This class of reading is, however, only the seasoning 
of literature, and must never be taken for its more substantial 
repast. Such works of fiction divert and refresh the mind, 
stimulate the fancy, enlarge the sympathies, and improve the 
taste. 

The works of the great poets should be found in all libraries 
where means can be afforded to purchase them. Some people, 



THE LIBRARY IN THE HOME 



121 



who think themselves practical, regard poetry as a sort of 
unsubstantial literature, which recites no history and records 
no facts. It appears to them only a high form of amusement, 
lying quite outside the common utilities of life. There could 
scarcely be a geater mistake than this. The world's highest 
wisdom, its profoundest truths, its best philosophy, its purest 
conceptions of God and goodness, appear in poetic literature. 
When St. Paul preached to the Greek philosophers on Mars 
Hill, he quoted from their own poets while he argued for one 
God and the spirituality of His worship. From Shakespeare's 
plays might be gathered an encyclopaedia of the struggles, 
hopes, fears, and movements of human nature in all its posi- 
tions, and under all conceivable influences. But Shakespeare 
cannot be enjoyed until we have learned to read him by the 
expenditure of much time and study. 

Other poetry, though far inferior in power, will be much 
more generally read and enjoyed. The grand old English 
poets are, I fear, too much overlooked and neglected; but 
Wordsworth and Cowper, Scott and Moore, Burns and Keats 
are always good and profitable when we take time to read 
them. 

Our nineteenth century has given us many of the best and 
noblest poets the world has known — men and women whose 
lives have been true to the great sentiments they have 
embalmed in verse. Where was ever a gentler or loftier soul 
than Elizabeth Barrett Browning? Her protests against 
slaveiy, her Cry of the Children, her patriotic songs for Italy 
are but her own deep feelings formulated in verse. Gentle, 
suffering, sympathetic Tom Hood, whose quaint utterances lie 
close along both sides the line which divides laughter and 
tears, is always a blessing whether he leads us to The Haunted 
House, the Bridge of Sighs, or the home of the Kilmanseggs. 
We have many American poets worthy of places in every 



122 



YOU AND I. 



American home. Bryant interpreting Nature in her loftiest 
thoughts and feelings; Longfellow speaking for the holiest 
affections; Whittier sounding the bugle charge against every 
wrong, or waking the memory of happy olden days with their 
attendant, familiar faces ; Holmes bubbling over with humor 
and laughter; Willis painting pictures that are alive and 
speak to us. All these and many more become our best 
friends and teachers — let us give them a place in the library 
if we can. 

The modern historian will well repay us for the space we 
accord him in our library and the expense of bringing him 
there. The art of writing history seems really never to have 
been discovered before the present century. The stately array 
of dignitaries, the transactions of courts and parliaments, the 
march of armies and the shock of battles, the recital of con- 
quests and changes of dynasties once made the web and woof 
of what was called history. The people, with their pleasures 
or sufferings, seemed altogether too insignificant to be accorded 
a place in the record. But this conception of history no longer 
prevails. The successful historian of the present writes the 
story of the people, and these pompous persons and events are 
only mentioned as they stand related to the multitudes of 
obscure and unnamed citizens. Macaulay, Froude, Motley, 
Prescott, Greene and Justin McCarthy give to their histories 
the action, passion and thrilling interest of romance. They 
tell of the rise of opinions, customs, and amusements, of 
guilds, trades, and industries, of the changes in dress, furni- 
ture, repasts and entertainments; they describe inventions and 
the useful arts; they mark the ferment of the people, the 
popular discord, clamor and enthusiasm out of which reforms 
and revolutions grow, delineating all so vividly and truth- 
fully that the past lives again in our presence, and we become 
the cotemporaries of all generations, and the eye-witnesses of 



THE LIBRA R Y IN THE HOME. 



123 



all important events. A few good histories bring all the 
world, with living reality, under your roof. 

I do not care to speak of biographies. But few have ever 
been written with enough knowledge of the whole life and 
fidelity to exact truth to give us any reliable and adequate 
idea of the person of whom they pretend to tell us. Usually, 
only so much of the personality is described as the world saw. 
The best letters are printed, the most heroic deeds described, 
and what is weak, unamiable or blameworthy is left untold. 
A picture of the subject is painted without the shadows, and 
it lies so flat on the canvas that no one mistakes it for a gen- 
uine likeness. 

In the broad held of essays, science, philosophy and other 
forms of miscellaneous literature, the individual tastes and 
preferences must be left to follow their own inclinations. 
After all, the enlarged library grows often like the one who 
builds it. and fits him like a suit of clothes made to order. 
How shall a stranger who has not taken his measure presume 
to cut his garments? 

Wherever the expense can be afforded, a microscope of 
good working power should be provided. The best and ful- 
lest book next to the Bible, within our reach, is the great 
volume God has written and which we have named Nature. 
Its pages lie open before us continually. Grasses, leaves, 
flowers, insects, seeds, crystals — ten thousand beautiful won- 
ders — all invite our observation, and are ready to fill us with 
delight. The microscope will show them to us when we can 
see them in no other way. If a few simple pieces of physical 
apparatus be added, — a horse-shoe magnet, a cheap electrical 
machine, a prism, and such other things as reveal the secrets 
of the material world, we shall have in the library enough to 
make it the most instructive and attractive of places. 

Let me call attention now to the manner of using the 



L24 



YOU AND I. 



library, which is quite as important a matter as the nature of 
its contents. Too often it is only an orderly room, with the 
books and papers all in their places behind glass doors care- 
fully locked, — and the key mislaid. Such a library is like an 
Egyptian tomb, with its mummies standing in silent rows 
around its silent walls. A drearier place would be hard to 
find. Only a little better than this, is the library into which 
we enter, when a passing fancy leads us there, to take up a 
book by chance and glance at it, till another fancy takes us 
somewhere else. Our reading must not be left to whimsical 
impulse, and the half-mechanical glancing over pages, while 
the vagrant mind is playing hide-and-seek with floating 
day-dreams. 

Some regular time, more or less faithfully observed, should 
be found each day for earnest, careful reading. It will be 
often interrupted, but if persistently adhered to, daily duties 
will come to understand and respect the requirement, and will 
adjust themselves so as not often to disturb it. All clamorous 
calls and duties soon fall into order and time for systematic 
people. If the spirit within is orderly, all things about us will 
come to obey its regulations. With this custom steadily 
maintained, any one may become well and widely informed. 
Without it, no one can possibly do so. 

It is quite as necessary that the character of our reading 
should be determined by an intelligent purpose, as that the 
hours given to it should be regular and constant. He who 
follows inclination merely will develop the taste unduly in one 
direction, to the total neglect of other needs of the mind. 
How easy it is to become a confirmed novel reader, and to 
lose all relish for more nourishing literature; to read the 
magazines and daily papers, and scarce ever complete a bound 
volume ; to so fix the habit of reading short articles as to be 
strangers to all that have attained considerable length. The 



THE LIBRAE Y IN THE HOME. 



125 



choice, variety and succession of reading should be the result 
of thought and plan. What is begun should be completed, 
and what is selected should be in view of adequate and per- 
manent intellectual results. 

Concentration of attention and thought is indispensable to 
profitable reading The habit of perusing books with half 
attention is easily formed, but is only eradicated with great 
difficulty. While the printed page is before us, and our eyes 
are passing along the lines, too often the mind is occupied 
with indistinct visions of other and disconnected things, a 
procession of memories, plans, hopes and fancies, is passing 
through it, preventing a clear and permanent impression of 
what is read. Little improvement and much evil are the 
result. Time is wasted and mental indolence indulged under 
the pretence of doing something. We have no clear view of 
the opinions, no exact memory of the facts given in the book 
we think we have read. Pouring water into a sieve, is a fair 
illustration of what we have done by pouring truths and argu- 
ments into our inattentive and unretentive minds. We may 
thus become omnivorous readers, and yet make no progress in 
the accumulation of knowledge. Wherever this evil habit is 
formed, it should be corrected at any inconvenience it may 
cost. If we cannot, on pausing, recall distinctly what we 
have just read, we should immediately re-read it with greater 
attention. On laying down a book a little time should be 
given for a mental review, and we should thus assure ourselves 
that we know what we have been over. In this way we may 
acquire an accuracy of information which will be of the great- 
est value to us. The increase of our knowledge does not 
depend so greatly on how much, as how carefully, we have read. 

The mental faculties should always be critically alert while 
reading. An active memory and fixed attention may impress 
what the author says, but if critical judgment has not been 



126 



YOU AND J. 



exercised, if we have simply received with unquestioning 
absorption, we have not yet learned the art of profitable read- 
ing. There is great wisdom in the old proverb, " Beware of 
the man of one book," for while " one book 11 does not contain 
all knowledge, if it be thoroughly studied, its statements 
examined and criticized, and the thoughts it suggests followed 
by independent thinking, it will yield more profit than twenty 
books of equal value, read in a casual and careless manner. 
Whatever is worth perusal at all, is worth the honest and 
patient labor necessary to its clear understanding. ' 

The possible value of a well selected, well used library, even 
if it be small, is only appreciated by a few people. Let its 
first books be standard, and contain the fundamentals of gen- 
eral knowledge. As it grows beyond this, let it minister to 
refined taste, elevated thought, valuable information, and a 
chastened imagination. Then let it be properly used. Enter 
it as if coming into the presence of the wisest and best men of 
all ages, in the moments of their supreme greatness and 
thoughtfulness. Let the family often spend evenings together 
here. Let some one read aloud and the others listen, criticise 
and discuss what is brought before them. In this way the 
whole world and all the ages may be brought together into 
quiet, unpretentious homes, and the library be the centre of 
happiness, wisdom and refinement. 




INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER. 



BY 



WM. A. OBENCHA IN. 
The great hope of society is individual character." — Charming 




HE world acknowledges two 
lords: character and genius, or, to give 
the word a broader meaning, character and 
intellect. 

Character may be and should be a common 
possession; genius is occasional and rare. 
Character must be acquired; genius is innate. 
Character is a plain, everyday fact; genius a mystery, like 
the wind," whose sound we hear, but can not tell whence 
it cometh, and whither it goeth. Character is the founda- 
tion of the social structure ; genius is non-essential and 
dependent. To obscure character, when its excellencies 
are pointed out, we give a tardy and discriminating admi- 
ration; genuis we worship. Splendidly self-assertive, it tri- 
umphs over our ignorance, stupidity and base envy, and 
compels our homage. The development of character is too 
seldom insisted upon; the development of intellect is made 
the end of existence. 

Never was life so full of opportunities for self-culture as 
it is to-day. Such a thing as undeveloped talent cannot be 
in this age when science, art and literature, in myriad forms, 

127 



12S 



YOU AXD I. 



are sounding a reveille to every dormant faculty of the soul, 
Yet it has remained for this busy and cultured generation to 
ask the question, kk Is life worth living?" and to answer it 
with a scornful negative. Weariness of soul, weariness of 
flesh, suicide, madness, — these are too often the bitter endings 
of lives that apparently were rilled with all good. Life is 
not the glorious thing it should be. There is disappointment 
where there should be content: failure instead of success; 
anxiety instead of peace; despair instead of faith. Why is it? 
Alas ! we have forgotten, if indeed we ever knew, that the 
divine secret of peace is in being, not in doing ! The parable 
of the talents is the scriptural lesson most heeded by this rest- 
less age, while the command " Be ye perfect as your Father 
in heaven is perfect " is set aside as impracticable. 

I have gathered here a few thoughts from the wisdom of 
the ages. I have looked into my own life and into the lives 
of others, and I declare to you, speaking with no human 
authority, that perfection of character is the true end of life, 
and the only attainment that can satisfy the soul. 

Some one has remarked, that we are not able to say what a 
thing is so forcibly as by saying what it is not. So, in defining 
the word character, I say first of all that character is not 
nature; and a confusion of the two terms will lead to mis- 
chievous error. Thus, " Character," says Voltaire, " is what 
nature has engraven in us; can we then efface it ?" 

" Should anyone tell you that a mountain had changed its 
place, you are at liberty to doubt it.' 1 says Mahomet; " but if 
anyone tells you that a man has changed his character, do not 
believe it." 

These expressions indicate the most dangerous form of that 
Eastern fatalism which, in a drapery of theological phrase, is a 
cherished part of many religious creeds, and. in the shape of 
ready aphorism, is found on the lips of every nation. 




CHARACTER. 



INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER. 329 

" Che sara sara" (Whatever will be, will be), is the 
Italian version. 

" What fates impose, that men must needs abide, 1 ' says 
Shakespeare. 

"What must be, shall be," says Seneca. 

And Marcus Antoninus declares with all the lofty calm of a 
philosopher: " Whatever may happen to thee, it was prepared 
for thee from all eternity; and the implication of causes was 
from eternity spinning the thread of thy being and of that 
which is incident to it." 

I know not how others may be affected by such utterances, 
but to me they are like chains hung about my very soul. 

It is not my purpose to enter into a discussion of predestina- 
tion or of free-will. I can not measure exactly the extent to 
which hereditary influences determine a person's character, 
nor the scope of that " divinity that shapes our ends." I have 
only a few earnest words, to counteract, if possible, the para- 
lyzing effect of such devil's maxims as I have quoted above. 

It is of small consequence that a man believes in fatalism in 
material matters, but in the moral world and in the manage- 
ment of his own nature it is essential that he realize his power 
and freedom. U A strict belief in fate is the worst of slavery." 
"All things are in fate, yet all things are not decreed by fate." 
One's nature is indeed inborn. By the operations of heredi- 
ty, or fate, if you like, the infant just breathing its first breath 
or uttering its first cry, has a certain nature; but what its 
character is to be depends upon a thousand things — parental 
training, finite circumstances, and, above all, its own will. 
For character is the product which man's infinite will, gov- 
erned by some circumstances, and triumphing over others, 
evolves from his crude nature. Fate gives him a nature, but 
free will creates his character, and a will that labors toward 

perfection can not but be both free and infinite, since it is 
9 



130 



YOU AXD r. 



one with God's will. What wonderful changes might be 
wrought in the moral and social world, if parents, teachers, 
and all other guides of youth would daily set before young 
minds the omnipotence of a right will ! It is a gospel of per- 
fect and delightful freedom, and a never-failing inspiration. 

" In the moral world there is nothing impossible, " writes 
Von Humboldt, " if we can bring a thorough will to it. Man 
can do everything with himself, but he must not attempt to 
do too much with others. 17 

" When I was a child, " said a gentleman not long since, " a 
phrenologist examined my head, and, among other things, 
told me that I was inclined to be careless and disorderly in 
small matters, such as the locking of doors, the putting of 
things into their proper places, and so on; also, that I was 
deficient in memory. His words made a deep impression on 
me, and I began at once to correct these faults. I even pun- 
ished myself for breaches of order or lapses of memory, and 
by such careful self -training I have changed my very nature.^ 

Mark these words. The will working on one's nature 
evolves character, and in the evolution the nature itself is 
changed. Each man, therefore, bears in himself the means 
of redemption from his own evil nature, and can " work out 
his own salvation," not "with fear and trembling,''' but gladly 
and fearlessly, knowing that it is God that worketh in him, 
k> both to will and to do of his own good pleasure." 

If, then, a " perfectly educated will " has such absolute 
power over man's inner life, how far can the same will govern 
his outer life? Or, to put the question in another form, how 
far can a man of character control circumstances? 

That " man is the creature of circumstance " is a main 
article in the world's indolent, self-indulgent creed; and we 
must allow that this is a sort of half-truth which is harder to 
confute than a whole falsehood. There are indeed rare crises 



INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER. 



181 



in every man's life, when circumstances rear an insuperable 
barrier to present success. Still, it remains true, that " he 
who is firm in will moulds the world to himself," and what 
seems to us disastrous failure is really a step toward success. 
The fable of Antaeus receiving new strength every time he 
touched the earth is a type of character struggling with cir- 
cumstances. To make adverse circumstances an excuse for 
failure is to proclaim one's own weakness. It was Emerson 
who lamented that his son would miss the discipline of pov- 
erty that had been his in early life. 

We are men and women, not mollusks. We need no shel- 
tered cove, with soft-lapping tides to bring our nourishment to 
us, but a stormy ocean, battling with whose waves and tem- 
pests we may strengthen the sinews of mind and soul. Blessed 
is he who sees in every difficulty, not an obstacle placed in his 
way by a frowning fate, but a stepping-stone on which he may 
vanquish sloth, and rise to higher things. 

Do you desire perfection of character and success in life? 
Then fling aside all enervating beliefs in the immutability of 
nature and the inexorableness of circumstance, and give the 
Godhead in you a chance to assert itself. 

Napoleon believed in a star that ruled his destinies. What 
was it but "the star of the unconquered will?" No planet 
that ever beamed can influence your destiny. " Man is his 
own star." There is no decree of God that you shall be or 
shall not be a power in this world. " By our own spirits are 
we deified." Instead of a cold, passionless deity watching 
unmoved the actions he has decreed from all eternity, we 
have in the heavens a Father who looks with intensest interest 
on his struggling children, helping them by all benign influ- 
ences, yearning for their final triumph, and rejoicing in that 
growing perfection of character which is the outcome of every 
real victory. 



132 



YOU AND I. 



If character does not seem to you the most desirable of all 
possessions, consider that without it the most brilliant intel- 
lectual gifts are of small avail. 

The soul of the Scotch poet was a winged creature that 
might have dwelt among the stars ; yet he died, slain by the 
poison of his own vices, and with the glorious promise of his 
genius unfulfilled. 

Chatterton was a genius, yet a few fragments of verse and 
a literary imposture are all that remain of 

" The marvellous boy, 
The sleepless soul that perished in his pride." 

Say, rather, "perished in his weakness, "'unable to withstand 
a little poverty, a little delay of the good fortune that came 
too late. 

And Byron and Poe — their works, however brilliant, are 
but glimmerings of the glory that might have been, had they 
been strong: in "character as in intellect. Precious as are the 
works of genius, we could better spare a thousand matchless 
poems than the humble labors of one woman like Dora Patti- 
son. Take from the world all that character has wrought, 
and what would be left but dust and ashes? 

It is possible to conceive of a world without genius, — a 
world whose only songs were those of birds and happy chil- 
dren; whose only poems were the lovely lives of its men and 
women; whose only eloquence flowed in the familiar talk of 
every day life; whose dramas were enacted on street and at 
fireside by human beings who walked reverently as in the 
sight of " God and good angels." Such a world would be 
not far from heaven; but a world without character, though 
every brain in it were that of a genius, would be hell. 

When genius and character are combined, we have the 
highest type of manhood or womanhood. Read the pathetic 
story of Charles and Mary Lamb, and observe how strong,, 



IXDIVIDUAL CHARACTER. 133 

resolute character sustained genius and made the most of 
life in the midst of troubles terrible enough to make failure 
excusable, if it ever is. Yet in this record of self-denial, 
patience, industry, cheerfulness, we see only the beautiful 
realization of Ruskin's ideal of those " who have determined 
that they will do something useful; that whatever may be 
prepared for them hereafter or happen to them here, they will 
at least deserve the food that God gives them by winning it 
honorably; and that however fallen from the purity or far 
from the peace of Eden, they %vill carry out the duty of human 
dominion, though they have lost its felicity, and dress and keep 
the wilderness, though they no more can dress or keep the 
garden/' 

Note well those italicized words, for they describe the 
supreme discipline of character. Duty performed even under 
circumstances which render its performance a pleasure, will 
result in dignity and excellence of character ; but duty carried 
out when felicity is hopelessly lost, must lift man to the very 
bosom of God, and make him the envy of angels. 

I have said that the divine secret of peace is in being, not 
in doing; but this does not preclude the highest ambition. I 
would not, if I could, dim the splendor of that dream of future, 
greatness which lights the step of every youth and maiden 
noble-born. Have confidence in your powers. Pursue your 
•art, whatever it may be, with all the strength of your nature. 
Not for its own sake, however. We degrade art when we 
make it an end instead of a means. " Art for art's sake " is 
another devil's maxim. Aim at perfection in art as a means 
for obtaining perfection of character, and that perfected char- 
acter will inform your art with higher and holier beauty than 
you could win for it, though you had the skill of men and 
angels. Desire success. Strive for it. But neither rejoice 
in success nor grieve over failure, until you have held counsel 



134 



YOU AXD I. 



with your own soul and seen the effect of either on your 
character. That is not success which brings self-sufficiency, 
base pride, and contempt of those less gifted. That is not 
failure which makes you more humble, more aspiring, more 
dependent on God and more sympathetic towards your fellow- 
men. 

Character is genius in embryo. Carlyle expressed in 
words the lofty sentiments which his unlearned father uttered 
in deeds. One preached a gospel of self-denial and sincerity; 
the other lived it. Which demands our admiration, the sage 
of Chelsea, writing stern philosophy by the bookful, and acting 
alternately the spoiled child and the madman, or the grand, 
old peasant, the kk real man of God's own making,' 1 who u feared 
God and worked diligently on God's own earth with content- 
ment, hope and unwearied resolution?" 

Did I say "genius in embryo?" Character is genius itself: 
flowing through the channels of ordinary life. Genius influ- 
ences only through the medium of words. Character com- 
mands and awes by its mere presence, and is eloquent in 
silence. The power of all great military commanders lies in 
character. We call it personal magnetism, whereas it is only 
the spell that character weaves around all who come near it. 
This was the " magic " that lay in Gordon's " wand of vic- 
tory;" and in lesser degrees and in humbler ways it is a 
" magic " that hundreds may claim who have neither talent, 
nor genius, as these terms are commonly understood. 

" Every man has in himself a continent of undiscovered 
character. Happy is he who acts the Columbus to his own 
soul." 

Begin at once to search for the sleeping powers that may 
lie within you. You may not be able to celebrate in glowing 
language some heroic deed, but you may come to be the doer 



IX D I VID UA L CHA RA C TER. 



135 



of the deed. You may not be a poet, but you can be the 
embodiment of that l * sweetness and light 11 which is the poet's 
inspiration. 

To Milton in his blindness, lamenting his inability to work, 
there came this divine message: " God doth not need either 
maiis work or his oujii gifts" Of intellectual greatness the 
world has enough, and to spare. But he does need the per- 
fection of your character, for through this he is working out 
the redemption of the world. 

Dr. Arnold, writing in his journal the night before his death, 
said: " There are works which, by God's permission, I would 
do before the night cometh; but, above all, my own personal 
work, to keep myself pure and zealous and believing 

" I shall be satisfied when I awake in thy likeness, 11 said the 
Psalmist. What a commentary on kingly glory, strength of 
intellect and unbounded wealth. If these in their perfection 
could not satisfy the soul of King David, could the small 
measure of one or all that you, by much striving, might attain, 
satisfy your soul? Do not believe it. 

But if with a steadfast will you aim at perfection of charac- 
ter, then weariness, unrest and disappointment pass away, and 
failure vanishes forever, and your life becomes a thing of ines- 
timable worth. The strength of living is always greater than 
the strength of thinking. You will be " strong to live," and 
" the vision splendid " that came to you in youth will never 
"fade into the light of common day," but brighten into a 
glorv that nothing can eclipse, save a dawn celestial. Were 
you a sculptor, you would not brook a blemish in the statue 
that grew beneath your touch: were you a poet, you would 
not send your verse into immortality with any defect of 
rhythm or rhyme; and should you be less careful of your 
" uncarved soul 11 and the measure of your daily life? Statue 



136 



YOU AND I. 



may crumble to dust, and poem be forgotten, but character is 
immortal, and, of our earthly works, " only what we have 
wrought into our character during life can we take away 
with us." 

Begin the work at once, and take for guide these golden 
rules : 

" Look out and not in, 
Look forward, not backward, 
Lend a hand." 




MUSIC IN TEE EOME. 



BY 



REV. L. R. FISKE, D. Z> LL. D. 




USIC has always had a place 
in the church, and very gen- 
erally in the social circle; it 
has been made welcome in 
political gatherings, and has 
successfully put forth its claims 
for rightful recognition in the 
public schools. The home is the 
primary church, the most impor- 
% v tant school, and it is both the 
social and political unit of the 
race. A home without music is 
only in part a home. 

" God setteth the solitary in 
In order that the race might exist 
f V//D v '' and work out a pure and sublime destiny, 
marriage was ordained, and family life and relations were 
instituted. As is the family such the world will be. The 
great universal family draws its inspiration from the individual 
families which compose it. 

The perfection of home is not wrought out by the rigor of 
law, nor, indeed, by the correctness of the precepts inculcated, 

137 



families 



138 



YOU AND I. 



but by the spirit that pervades the life. Running through 
this spirit must there be honesty, truthfulness, and the authori- 
tative voice of a quickened conscience, but these are only the 
framework within which humanity abides; they are the law 
of the soul but not the living, breathing nature in which alone 
the heart dwells. 

While the eye is the special avenue to the intellect, the 
principal part of our knowledge of the external world — and 
that which is most valuable — being gained through natural 
vision, the ear is to a very large extent the avenue to the 
heart. The sensation of hearing is usually more decided than 
the sensation of sight, and the emotions sustain an intimate 
relation with the impressions made upon the ear. The elo- 
quence of the orator, the voice of love, the cry of anguish, the 
wail of despair, the song that breathes of tenderness, of sorrow 
or of joy stir the heart as no scenic representation can do. 
And the power of music is even greater than that of elo- 
quence; it pla}^s on all the strings of the heart with a quick- 
ness, a range and certainty of touch found in no other form of 
communication between soul and soul* 

While it is the office of the parent to instruct the child, to 
awaken the household to an interest in the wide field of learn- 
ing, to give constant attention to the intellectual culture of the 
young God has placed under his supervision, that which most 
distinguishes home life is, and certainly was intended to be, 
the delicate and enduring fibers of affection which make of the 
family a unit that nothing can dissolve. If unselfishness is 
promoted, if the sympathy of one for another becomes an all- 
pervading reality, if truest love breathes forth from every 
heart, the special purpose of the family is realized. The 
home-culture, therefore, ought, in an eminent degree, to be a 
heart culture. As a means to this end music has a most 
important office to perform. 




MUSIC IN THE HOME. 



MUSIC IN THE HOME. l^y 

Music, the right kind of music, is refining. True refine- 
ment does not consist of outward ceremonials, set convention- 
alities, but of purity and delicacy of soul. It is not the 
observance of rules of etiquette, it is an inner life which abhors 
that which is coarse, which gives play to the finest sensibili- 
ties, which delights in the pure and perfect. Acquired refine- 
ment is a spiritual inhalation, and has its abode in the heart. 
The melody of music softens the feelings, dispels discord from 
the soul, and when accompanied by moral and lofty sentiment 
its influence for good is of inexpressible value. 

The home ought to be the happiest place on earth. It is in 
the nature of music to be enjoyable; enjoyability is a funda- 
mental element of music; take this away and it would cease 
to be music. In an eminent degree is music sociable. It 
provides pure companionship; by means of it soul comes in 
contact with soul, and genuine communion is secured. Those 
households in which music has a distinct place possess one 
source of happiness others do not enjoy. 

It is a question of special practical interest how to influence 
children to choose the home in preference to associations 
which are foreign to the companionship of the family. I do 
not speak of positive regulations which hold by the force of 
law, keeping at home because the child does not dare to be 
away, but keeping at home because he prefers it to any other 
place. That this choice shall be made there must be more in 
the home spirit and employments to attract than any social 
loadstone at any other point. Only in part does family gov- 
ernment consist of formal teachings — the existence of a healthy 
preceptorial atmosphere — but the supplying of a pure, sweet, 
drawing home-life, which teaches not by words but by the 
infusion of a holy, cheerful spirit that wins by attraction 
instead of restraining by power. In such a home music natu- 
rally belongs; and, on the other hand, music, if wisely em- 



140 



YOU AND I. 



ployed, will help engender such an atmosphere in any home. 
In the representations of heaven the joy of that delightful land 
rinds expression in music j but there is no music in the world 




THE LITTLE SONGSTER. 



of lost spirits. The heart sings when it is happy. In planning 
for the best and most attractive home-life the thoughtful parent 
will not forget to bring in the harmony which music awakens 
in the soul. 



MUSIC IN THE HOME. 



HI 



" That which I have found the best recreation both to my 
mind and body, whensoever either of them stands in need of 
it, is music, which exercises at once both body and soul; 
especially when I play myself; for then, methinks, the same 
motion that my hand makes upon the instrument, the instru- 
ment makes upon my heart. It calls in my spirits, composes. 
my thoughts, delights my ear, recreates my mind, and so not 
only fits me for after business, but fills my heart at the present 
with pure and useful thoughts ; so that when music sounds the 
sweetliest in my ears, truth commonly flows the clearest into 
my mind. And hence it is that I find my soul is become more 
harmonious by being accustomed so much to harmony, and so 
averse to all manners of discord that the leact jarring sounds, 
either in notes or words, seem very harsh and unpleasant to 
me." (Bishop Beveridge.) 

The power which music possesses, however, makes it some- 
times an agency of great evil. This is a liability that attaches 
to all forms of power except the energy inhering in moral per- 
fection. Music, because of its attractiveness, is capable of 
floating almost any sentiment into favor. There is nothing 
else so terribly pernicious as a vicious song. Eloquence, with 
all its inspiration, employed in a bad cause, is far less effective. 
Make all the songs of a nation vile and the government would 
plunge into ruin, civilization would recede, crime would tri- 
umph on every hand, and moral putrefaction would take the 
place of virtue in all our households. Music in the home! but 
it should be pure. It may and should be angel-wings; it can^ 
but it ought not to be, a syren-voice alluring to death. 

The opportunities for musical culture have come to be 
abundant, and so easily secured that a knowledge of music 
can be gained by all. Conservatories are found in every 
state, the public schools are beginning to supply instruction 
in this branch of study, and instruments of music are within 



112 



YOU AND I. 



the reach of almost every one. The piano has long main- 
tained its place in the parlor. The organ has been regarded 
as a valuable aid in the rendering of sacred music. The 
violin has been redeemed from associations which have been 
considered objectionable, and now fittingly mingles its charm- 
ing strains with voices that are lifted in praise to the Father 
and His Christ. And more than ever the study of vocal music 
is being appreciated, and the young are taught to give ex- 
pression to the emotions of the soul in the melody of song. 
Music in every home — music of the voice, music on some 
instrument, music that breathes pure and lofty sentiment, 
music that charms the ear and engages the heart, and there- 
fore music which finds its way into the life of the children of 
our homes for their purification and guidance. This ought to 
be universal, this will be universal, when we all come to em- 
ploy the wisest methods for making the family what the 
-Divine Intelligence intended it to be. 




CULTIVATE A DESIRE TO PLEASE. 



BY 



MRS. MARY ASHLEY TO WNSEND. 




N the ossified 
map of man's abil- 
ities, which phren- 
ologists have 
made of the human skull, 
to one bump is given spe- 
cial prominence. Like 
^= r * Jove among the Olym- 
pian gods of old, it holds the 
loftiest place. Differ as they 
may on the other points, Gall 
and Spurzheim, Combe and their 
successive brothers in the science of mind, all agree in locating 
benevolence on the very pinnacle of the cranium. They not 
only assign to it the highest position in localizing psychic func- 
tions, but they freely acknowledge its dominating influence as a 
moral faculty, and formulate what they call " character," 
according as this bump is a protuberance or a depression 
amongst its fellow cranial embossments. From it flow, as 
trickling waters from hill-top springs, all those approximating 
faculties which fertilize the heart and quicken it to the growth 

143 



144 



YOU AND I. 



of human nature's noblest products. It is the parent of self- 
abnegation, of honest forgiveness, of warm sympathy with our 
fellow creatures, of love, of tenderness, of patience, of constant 
consideration for others, of that lofty generosity which is great 
alike in giving and withholding. The culmination of all these 
qualities is a desire to please, which, in a cultivated man or 
woman, is admitted to be a crowning grace. 

Although at first glance the subject may strike the careless 
mind as one of those "trifles light as air," scarce worthy of a 
moment's serious contemplation, a little reflection will convince 
the most indifferent that the art of pleasing is a momentous 
power, exerting an incalculable influence upon all matters 
appertaining to the affairs of men and nations. Its significance 
may be noted in a thousand forms, in a thousand places, by 
any observing individual, in a single day. The home, the 
street, the mart, the most ordinary and familiar scenes con- 
nected with daily life, afford ample opportunity for the study 
of this puissant agent, and are gladdening or dispiriting in pro- 
portion as its spirit governs those who people such walks. It 
is not a new thing. It is old as the ages, and its power both 
for evil and for good has notched itself all along the centuries. 
Beneath its assumed beauty, the serpent concealed his hideous- 
ness when he whispered into the listening ear of the first 
mother. Jacob gave tacit acknowledgment of its supremacy 
in the twice seven years he served for Rachel. Sheba under- 
stood its importance when she arrayed herself to appear before 
Solomon, and it inspired David when, harp in hand, he played 
before Saul. If its sway cannot be strictly limited to good, it 
is only because wrong recognizes its merit as a mask, and uses 
it in the same way that hypocrisy uses religion, and vice uses 
virtue. But its healthful influence so far outweighs its possibili- 
ties for ill, that the latter need not be taken into consideration. 

The mere forms and observances of etiquette, valuable as 



CULTIVATE A DESIRE TO PLEASE. 



145 



they are in their way, do not in themselves constitute those 
ennobling qualities which spring from an innocent desire to 
please. Manner is the currency of good society, yet too much 
manner is a dangerous thing, and betrays a lack of the very 
capacities it aims to express. We may conform coldly to all 
social usages, omitting no ceremony and scrupulously observ- 
ing all customs, yet possess neither a winning address nor the 
first quality which goes to make up that vivifying and benefi- 
cent influence, which emanates from sincere warmth of heart. 
We are taught by one whose knowledge of human nature was 
as profound as it was unerring, that " one may smile and smile 
and be a villain," and the same master shows us that " to 
crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, where thrift may follow 
fawning," is a manner apart from the nature of genuine cour- 
tesy. Richelieu points out the doubt that is born of empty 
etiquette, when he says of the departing courtier, " He bows 
too low." [See initial letter.] Franklin bids us to look 
beneath the cloak of sycophancy for the axe to grind, and by 
more than one high authority we are warned to beware of 
him who professes too much. Thus the dangerous surf of 
shallow ceremony threatens all who move upon the social seas. 
The earnest cultivation of a pure and lofty desire to please is 
the Massoola Boat which shall bear them safely across the 
treacherous breakers. 

In these days when our flowing rivers are strangled with the 
dust of fallen forests, as countless mills convert them into the 
multifarious forms demanded by the wants of mankind; when 
our skies are blackened with the smoke of thousands of fac- 
tories and furnaces ; when the railways of traffic spread every- 
where under our feet, and the railways of thought stretch 
everywhere over our heads; when the mountains and seas 
bow down before the genius of man; when electricity shines 
out upon the earth like a new born planet, and the steam- 
10 



146 



YOU AND I. 



engine is heard upon all sides champing its bit like an impa- 
tient war-horse eager to be guided to new battles and fresh 
victories; when discovery treads upon the heels of discovery, 
and breathless invention feels that it must rush " into this 
breathing world but half made up," lest another just behind 
should overtake and snatch away its treasure; when all is 
hurry and worry, and excitement, and time seems lessened as 
work seems increased, the amenities of life stand with fright- 
ened faces, uncertain which way to turn. They realize the 
fact that they are in the way, and in imminent danger of being 
trodden under foot and out of sight. They lift appealing 
faces to the hurrying crowd, they put up piteous and implor- 
ing hands, they plead in moving accents to be spared! Alas! 
too often are their beseeching lips unheard, and, like flowers in 
the path of a surging throng, they are ruthlessly trampled 
down or thrust aside, or put away till to-morrow, with that 
ever increasing watchword of the age, no time. They have a 
hard fight for a poor existence. Shall the day come when 
they will exist no longer? when their presence shall be as 
the presence of strangers in places where they should be as the 
sacred lares and penates? Daily we behold them thrust fur- 
ther and further from the public walks of life, put away from 
the lips, from the heart, from the lives of men, and relegated 
to few and especial places. If we throttle the amenities, need 
we have no fear that the Eumenides will take their places? 
Can the day of such things ever come? Can it be said there 
is not any danger that it will come? The whole tendency of 
the times is toward obliteration of those associations which 
unfold in the character those gracious and graceful qualities 
which constitute a desire to please. We daily behold the 
young inattentive to the old, the old inconsiderate of chil- 
dren, and the children themselves infected with the spirit of 
the day, and ready to say, as a little lad said, when told to 



CULTIVATE A DESIRE TO PLEASE. 



147 



take off his hat to a lady, " Oh, I'll just smile at her this time, 
and take off my hat another day; my hands now are so full." 
Even so with us children of a larger growth; our " hands are 
so full," — so full of the arts, and sciences, and the literatures, 
and business, and baubles of the day that there is no room 
for the flower of courtesy; its sweet and delicate aroma is 
allowed to lose itself among the rank and pungent odors of 
the leeks and onions of daily existence, a whole bunch of 
which is not worth one of its dainty petals. 

In our large cities, club life is gaining harmful ascendancy 
over men, and crowding down much of the refinement of their 
natures. The club, together with the restaurant and its ready- 
made meals, militates against the love of home, of domestic 
happiness, and a taste for the society of pure and cultivated 
women. Too many men, both married and single, prefer to 
lounge in rooms paid for out of a member-purse, rather than 
fit up a home for which the individual pocket is adequate. 
This leaning toward exclusively male assemblies, in preference 
to the refinement of ladies' society or the pleasures of a home 
of one's own, has a baneful influence. In the one, perhaps 
economy would have to be studied; in the other, a man may 
not smoke, nor loll, nor gamble. In the club, economy and 
its pressures are not felt, and the code is one easily conformed 
to. At his restaurant he can eat when, where and how he 
chooses, with no restraints beyond an observance of the most 
common decencies of life. He may, moreover, call in his boon 
companions and give his " orders " like a lord, and throw away, 
on a single repast, more than would serve as home-market 
money for a month. The married club-man usually finds 
retrenchment very necessary — at home. The wife hears per- 
petually of hard times, that he may have easy times himself. 
She must be economical in order that he may be extravagant. 



148 



YOU AXD 1. 



She hears of expenses and retrenchments, and necessity of 
still greater economy in the home, until she feels life too 
costly to live, yet dreads to die and so incur the expenses 

of a funeral! The 
selfish life of the 

y * lH ^; r •' p% ( the unselfish life of 
|7^; _ the woman, her pa- 
'^r^- tient, motherly toil 
is all unnoticed by 
him, and both are 
.^P sacrificed to a false 
wVy mode of living in 
which the wine and 




ir- Z! p/ZOfiJ Co//.}! 

EVENINGS AT THE CLUB. 

cigar bill plays no small part, and with which a true snirit 
of amenity has very little to do. 



CULTIVATE A DESIRE TO PLEASE. 



149 



The constantly added business avenues that open and allure 
men's energies, is another cause of lessening courtesy. 
Strength of brain and heart and muscle are absorbed to such 
an extent that, often, a man is actually too tired to be polite! 
Life and health are given up to the acquirement of that dross 
which can purchase neither the one nor the other. When such 
values are tossed ruthlessly away, there can be no hope that 
things deemed of lesser worth shall not follow. It is an age 
of money, and men are willing to find their fame in their for- 
tunes. 1 Tis true that money goes where manner will not take 
one; but, on the other hand, manner admits one free where 
money could not force an entrance. Still, manner must go to 
the wall in the estimation of him who devotes his life, his for- 
tune and his sacred honor to the accumulation of property, and 
who only finds at the grave a point where he can cease to 
work. Now, whilst there is always necessity for work, work 
is not always a necessity, and business is often a cry of " wolf," 
where there is no wolf. Give a man work to do which is 
remunerative, or which appeals to his intellect or intelligence, 
and it becomes a passion. Toil has its enticements and fasci- 
nations and dissipations, like idleness; it becomes the absorbent 
of pleasure, time, life, and the repellant of joy, sunshine, happi- 
ness. Friends speak commiseratingly of a man's incessant 
labors, of his being chained to the wheel of business, when, in 
reality, he is hugging those very chains, finding enjoyment in 
their weight, adding new links to them now and then, as he 
finds opportunity, and giving himself up utterly to their 
"burden, to the exclusion of sweeter and tenderer claims upon 
his existence. Meanwhile the crust of selfishness grows 
thicker and thicker about his heart, and renders it impervious 
to softening and ennobling influences. " No time" he cries, 
when a child's face is lifted for a kiss — u No time " when the 
exigencies of a friend demand sympathy and attention. 



150 



YOU AND I. 



Verily, when the world's work becomes so tyrannical, so 
exacting, that it leaves man no time for the exercise of the art 
of pleasing, no time for the practice of those little courtesies 
which, in the aggregate, make the sum total of human happi- 
ness, then is the world a monster! Its voracious maw 
threatens to devour love, peace, serenity, the home, the church, 
even Christianity itself. Lured on step by step by those fasci- 
nations which work, that appeals to the intelligence, weaves 
about all earnest workers, a man hurls himself into the vortex, 
leaving friends and children upon the brink to welcome him 
when he shall emerge. But he never emerges ! He has gone 
down to a power which sits with him at his meals, follows him 
in his walks, is with him in his up-risings and his down-sittings, 
goes with him to his couch and makes his rest restless and his. 
pillow thorny. One by one the graces of speech and the 
beauties of manner fall from him like petals from a frozen 
flower, leaving but a leafless stalk possessed not of beauty, nor 
fragrance, nor attractiveness. He has allowed his work to 
come between him and all ties dearest to his manhood. Its 
murky shadow has enveloped all. Under its influence he has 
steeped himself in a self-indulgence nearly as fatal to happiness 
as vice itself. His child is almost a stranger to the father, the 
father almost a stranger to the child. The inner nature of 
both is as unstudied by one another as the cuneiform charac- 
ters on the bricks of ancient Babylon. The man finds himself 
isolated in the very midst of his own domain. His wife fears 
him, and his children hold themselves aloof from him. What 
wonder? His long unpracticed home courtesies partake of 
the nature of cruelties, so distorted is the manner of their 
doing. The desire to please is as a lamp left long unlighted 
and neglected in his heart. When his awkward hand would 
rekindle it, it cannot. His spasmodic efforts to do so 
are painfully futile, and those about him remember the light 



CULTIVATE A DESIRE TO PLEASE. 



151 



only by the darkness its extinguishment has made. Too late 
he realizes that his whole life is soured for himself and those 
he cares most for, because of the sweetness he thought too 
inconsiderable to attach to it. 

Why is it that when we encounter in a man refinement, 
politeness and a graceful desire to please and propitiate those 
about him, we point him out as " a gentleman of the old 
school""? Why should high breeding and the admirable 
qualities that belong to it be assigned only to the old school? 
They are as appropriate to-day as they were a century ago. 
Customs may change and advance with the progressive spirit 
of the age, but the essentials of manner do not change any 
more than the nature of steam changes, whether applied to the 
first little Hudson River steamboat of 1807, or to the ocean 
monarch of 1886. Possibly one cause of an indifference to 
the courtesies of life is ignorance or forgetfulness of the influ- 
ence which individuals exert upon one another. Each man is 
prone to regard himself as a unit independent of the whole, 
and neither acting on nor being acted upon by it. But men 
cannot regard themselves as gravestones, each standing alone 
and communicating nothing to the rest, each being in himself a 
mere record of dates and numerous virtues. A man can have 
no pleasure and no pain which does not in some degree, more 
or less remote, affect another human being. The way in 
which he leaves his family in the morning gives color to the 
household all the day ; the greeting he gives a friend he meets 
is a cloud or sun beam to be communicated to the rest, and 
the rest, and the rest, just as motion is communicated to the 
standing train of cars. There is no act which does not, like 
water added to the sea, circle into ever widening circles until 
it touches at last upon distant and unknown shores. A jo} T our 
word, a bitter jest, a reckless deed, an unkind glance, — each- 
may seem but a trifling thing; yet, like the pressure upon a 



152 



YOU AND I. 



single electric button, it sets in motion a world of unseen 
wheels for good or ill, unknown to him who touched the 
subtle spring. 

For woman, to whom the delicate graces of courtesy seem 
naturally to pertain, the day and the hour have their special 
dangers. Her sphere of life is constantly broadening; assum- 
ing new duties, filling new vocations, she is thrown into rela- 
tions and associations with the world which, in her hitherto 
sheltered life, were wholly "undreamt of in her philosophy. 11 
A new code of ethics meets her on the new plane of her exis- 
tence, often startling her with its painful surprises. She must 
take care that the niceness of taste, and delicacy of perception 
which are naturally hers be not impaired, and that contact 
with rougher scenes do not injure the beauty of mannerliness 
which constitute one of her greatest attractions. She must 
remember that the responsibility is not confined to herself. 
She has in her hands the moulding of children's minds, and 
from her they must receive such guidance as shall enable them 
to combine with dignity and discrimination the graceful art of 
pleasing. The development of those qualities which constitute 
a desire to please cannot but materially aid in shaping a kind 
character, and should be held as an essential part of all educa- 
tion. It was not overlooked in the instruction of Athenian 
youth and it should not be disregarded in teaching the young of 
the nineteenth century. A child should be taught to consider 
politeness as a sixth sense to be as easily and naturally and 
unconsciously used as his eyes and his ears. Courtesy should 
be as much insisted upon as cleanliness. When this is done 
children will not be so much given over to the charge of 
nurses, and so constantly excluded from the society where they 
by right belong. There is no reason why a well-bred, healthy 
child should be more irksome than the singing birds or house 
plants admitted to our parlors. They are observing and imi- 



CULTIVATE A DESIRE TO PLEASE. 



153 



tative and they should be permitted to move with those whose 
good manners and refined conversation they insensibly absorb, 
instead of being turned over to servants to listen to witches' 
tales and ignorant superstitions. To witness the treatment 
some children receive, one would suppose certain men and 
women regarded them only as the missing link. They belong 
in the presence of parents, and the friends of parents. A child 
derives more education from association than from books. He 
should be taught to observe closely and be allowed to speak 
whenever propriety warrants it. The day when little ones were 
reared in accordance with the adage which recommends that 
" children should be seen and not heard " has gone by. 

How many a poor, awkward creature, brought up on the 
plan of utter self-repression, endowed by nature with good 
qualities but denied by education their proper development, 
has found himself in society utterly incapable of doing himself 
or his attainments justice and been forced to hide his light 
under a bushel, the miserable victim of that abominable old 
law ! Agreeable manners should be made one of the habits of 
youth that they may be worn as habitual garments, not as new 
and unaccustomed raiment. As Christianity is pure in pro- 
portion to its simplicity, so is courtesy beautiful in proportion 
as it is natural. So soon as a child is capable himself of being 
pleased or being wounded, he can be taught to please and to 
avoid giving wounds. He can be taught to hold his good 
nature with the reins of good judgment, and to know that to 
yield and to exact both belong to the art of pleasing. He 
must learn that too much patience is equivalent to apathy, and 
too much kindness is equal to a wrong. Children are quick 
and keen observers and can readily learn that the sweet pleas- 
ure of pleasing is in itself ample compensation for its constant 
practice. It is a common thing to see little ones of the most 
tender years, taught with most scrupulous care to read, to 



154 



YOU AND I. 



know the catechism, to be perfectly decorous at church under 
services they do not enjoy, and under sermons they cannot 
possibly comprehend. Discipline ranks all considerations of 
their delights, and they are forced to study what they cannot 
understand, while left in grossest ignorance of the very ABC 
of address. The alphabet of manner-language is as untaught 
to them as Hindoostanee or Hebrew, and too often deemed as 
useless ; yet knowledge of it is essential both to their happiness 
and prosperity. It is the tongue that shall speak for them 
when they themselves are silent ; the evidence by which they 
shall be judged. In those flashes of human intercourse which 
admit of no opportunity and grant no time for close knowledge 
of mind and morals, it is betraying characteristics and associa- 
tions. It makes the attractions of childhood, the beauty of 
youth, and is one of the most winning attributes of old age. 
It is conceded that much is to be pardoned in the young and 
tolerated in the old ; but surely age is no excuse for selfishness 
and impertinence, nor youth for incivility and boorishness. 
There would be less to condone in both if the cultivation of a 
desire to please were begun in their earliest years and permit- 
ted to grow with their growth. As we cannot expect fruit from 
a seed which has never been planted, we cannot expect from 
age the qualities which were not cultivated in youth. We all 
know the force of habit; how it grows upon us until we per- 
form, mechanically, arts which we acquired only by the exer- 
cise of the greatest pains and patience. Just as the fingers 
of the piano player progress from the tedious awkwardness of 
the genesis of his art to the easy velocity and brilliant execu- 
tion which mark the finished performer, so the constant prac- 
tice of pleasing finally becomes an integral part of one's nature, 
a habit which sits upon one as an endowment. 

Too often he who has the directing of young lives, puts off 
this material part of education, and " hugs the flattering 



EYES TO THE BLIND. 



CULTIVATE A DESIRE TO PLEASE. 



155 



"unction to his soul " that it will all come of itself; that a pleas- 
ing and cultivated manner is the natural outcome of good 
morals and an amiable disposition ; that it will burst into efflo- 
rescence as a natural consequence of intercourse with the world ; 
that it is inborn like the senses, and will develope with the 
need for it ! As well might one expect to find Japanese lilies 
growing spontaneously on a granite hill in New Hampshire, 
as the graces of good manners leaping suddenly to adorn a 
character which has given no heed to their cultivation. It is 
not enough to possess the ability to do, if one has no knowl- 
edge of what to do. The untutored impulse is not to be relied 
upon, for it as often leads astray as aright. Manner is an 
acquirement, not a gift; and one's nature must be trained to a 
ready use of its own capacities even in small things, or blush 
with a sense of ignoble failure at every unexpected call upon 
its resources. 

There are those who, under a mistaken view of the art of 
pleasing, give themselves up to the most belittling vanities. 
Who cannot call to mind persons who make themselves look 
old in their perpetual efforts to appear young, and who fret 
good looks into absolute ugliness because they possess not 
absolute beauty! It is piteous to think how much time is 
wasted in idle lamentation over beauty denied to a face, or 
straightness to a limb, or gracefulness to a form, when it lies 
in every one's power to create for himself a beauty excelling 
all of these. The proper cultivation of a desire to please 
enlarges the heart and mind, and, like the lamp behind the ala- 
baster vase, reveals a loveliness which was all unguessed before. 
This is lovelier and more lasting than mere perfection of fea- 
ture and complexion. It is this which makes beauty beautiful 
and lends an irresistible charm to the plainest face. Our 
bodies are made for us; our manners we make for our- 
selves. As one forgets his own defects, they cease to impress 



156 



YOU AND I. 



others, and as one considers the happiness of those about him, 
his own increases accordingly. Madam de Stael was ac- 
counted the plainest woman in the court of Napoleon; but to 
such an extent had she cultivated a desire to please that a 
noted writer said of her that she could talk herself beautiful in 
five minutes. Manner is a magician and works marvels. Its 
home is in the soul. The face and form are its assistants to 
be made beautiful by the constant expression of beauty. To 
make ourselves agreeable surely is a duty we owe not only to 
ourselves but to all with whom we are thrown in contact. 
Every one acknowledges neat and careful dressing to be a 
necessity; why then is not a gentle and pleasing demeanor so 
likewise? All must agree that when we go into society 
we naturally seek out the most genial and pleasant persons. 
We avoid the " yes, yes " and the " no, no " people who always 
coincide with us; we fly the selfish, the cross, the sarcastic, 
and we shun, as we would a pestilence, the man whose boast 
it is that he always " speaks his mind." That type long since 
made itself synonymous with overweening vanity, narrow- 
mindedness and impertinence. We slip from the mordacious 
and the slanderous, and those whose wordy professions are 
"but as sounding brass and tinkling cymbals," and we turn to 
those who know how to distinguish between discretion and 
deceit, frankness and rudeness, who would blush to bear false 
witness against a neighbor, and who are able to unite the 
graces of true courtesy with those of dignity and self-reliance. 

It cannot be denied that the power of pleasing is a potent 
factor in the whole social and moral structure. It is the ani- 
mating principle of all happiness, call it by whatever name we 
will. It is the underlying stimulus to all noble effort. It is the 
base of eloquence, the soul of oratory. Demosthenes on the 
ocean shore, shouting to the waves, was aiming to please as 
well as to sway the hearers he was conquering himself to 



CULTIVATE A DESIRE TO PLEASE. 



157 



fluently address. It is the light of friendship, the life of love, 
the very essence of all practical Christianity. What was 
chivalry but a lofty form of courtesy, embracing honor, cour- 
age, self-denial, — a desire to please ! Such courtesy should hold 
high rank amongst human attainments. In its practice lies as 
broad and as sweet a humanity as in charity itself and in truth ; 
one virtue involves the other, for, in that " charity which 
suffereth long and is kind, which vaunteth not itself, which is 
not puffed up," lies the loftiest imaginable courtesy. 

The physician and surgeon know the value of having culti- 
vated a desire to please, and recognize its power as a 
co-adjutor in the healing art. They know that a cheerful air 
and an agreeable and re-assuring manner carry with them an 
influence even more efficacious than drugs and probes. A 
noble desire to please is the lover's strongest ally. Domestic 
serenity is dependent upon it. Governments, in their inter- 
course with nations, look to it for potential aid and choose their 
plenipotentiaries with a special eye to their qualification in the 
art of pleasing. 

The optimism which outlines the destruction of dearest 
hopes, the crash of ruined schemes, the dissolution of those 
brilliant financial projects which faded into nothingness at the 
supreme moment when they seemed resolving themselves into 
splendid realities, owes its survivance not alone to individual 
fortitude, courage and recuperative force, but, next to faith in 
God, to the kindly assurances, the timely sympathies and 
extended hands of those in whose hearts the desire to please 
has taken root and grown into that Christian virtue set before 
us in the Golden Rule. This power to please might justly be 
written as the synonym for success, since it is the open sesame 
to so many of life's successes. It is the king behind the throne, 
of church, of state, of society, casting its weight into the scales 
of religious, political and commercial events. It is one of the 



158 



YOU AND I. 



fundamental elements of Christianity, as shown in the lofty 
precepts of the Ten Commandments, and those sublime sayings 
of Christ which lie pressed, like sacred flowers from conse- 
crated sites, between the pages of the New Testament. 

Let us not have too much demonstrativeness, but let us 
cherish courtesy as a cardinal virtue, and unite, with a desire 
to please, that dignity and common sense which will not cringe 
to kings, nor wound the feelings of a pauper. Let the light of 
amenity shine before men, not as a holiday candle to be borne 
aloft in ostentatious pageants, but revealed in look and word 
and deed, the outward and visible sign of an inward and 
spiritual grace. 




SOCIAL RECIPROCITY. 

BY 

MRS. M. Z. RAYNE. 




LEASANT words, bows and 
smiles are the " small change " 
of the world of fashion, and 
make up the sum of social reci- 
procity. Without these, the 
gay assembly would be as dis- 
mal as the funeral march. 
' m They are not confined to one 
set or division of society, but are 
universal wherever a company has 
gathered, and the pleasant greeting is 
responded to by the cordial welcome. These small, sweet 
courtesies bind a nation together as firmly as the edicts of 
legislation. They are the unwritten laws, which command 
alike the king and the subject. 

It is related of a certain philosopher, that he desired to carry 
the beautiful courtesy of ball-rooms and assemblies into the 
practical atmosphere of every-day life. Accordingly, he 
greeted all whom he met with a genial smile of recognition, in 
order to put his theory to a test. The result was most disas- 
trous. He soon found himself involved in a series of difficul- 
ties. His intentions had been good and his theory admirable, 
but he was in advance of his time. The people upon whom 

159 



160 



SOCIAL RECIPROCITY. 



he smiled were accustomed to blank stares, or grim looks from 
strangers. They regaded his smiles as insults to their intelli- 
gence, and questioned the sanity of the venturesome philoso- 
pher. They were like the Englishman who was such a 
stickler for conventionality that he preferred to drown, rather 
than be rescued by a man to whom he had not been formally 
introduced. 

The sun shines upon the earth, and the earth responds with 
an outburst of bud and bloom. All nature is reciprocal. 
Something bright or beautiful is continually offered to us, and, 
if our eyes are not holden that we can not see, we reach out 
eager hands to draw the treasure to us, and in return we give 
smiles — thanks — our heart's best hospitality. Sometimes 
we do not see the angel holding the crown: it is when we are 
groping for worthless jewels in the mire of selfishness and 
worldliness, and the reciprocal chord in our natures is silent to 
the sweep of angel fingers. But it never fails, if we seek 
Heavenly recognition. How many rare and jeweled oppor- 
tunities we lose by our own churlishness, it would indeed be 
impossible to estimate. Congenial souls pass each other by, 
and no gleam of social reciprocity escapes from their zealously 
guarded windows to awaken recognition. They look into 
each other's faces with unseeing eyes or stern repelling glances, 
and each passes by on the other side. The unwritten law has 
decreed that they can not recognize each other without the 
formality it has designed for their protection. And the social 
law is right. But it shows our intelligence at fault, our reason 
less protective than instinct, and the whole code of social 
education weak where it should be strong. 

" What is he worth?" we ask of a new acquaintance. Not, 
what is he worth in character, in intellect, in moral equipoise, 
in all the integral forces that go to make up a perfect manhood ; 
but what is he worth financially ? How much money has he ? 



YOU AND I. 



161 



Is he the owner of a fine house, a handsome equipage, a lux- 
urious table? If he has all these, we want to know him. 

He may possess all these, and yet be poor indeed; but here 
the law of social reciprocity gives to him, in exchange for his 
vulgar wealth, the infinite riches of learning and genius. He 
invites learning to sit at his feast. Goodness and worth enjoy 
social distinction at his bidding, and endow him with a sem- 
blance of their own virtues. Beauty presides at his banquets. 
Every guest brings some grace of character or accomplish- 
ment in return for a lavish hospitality. It may be only a 
smile, but it is worn like a flower in the button-hole of occa- 
sion, and gracefully fulfils its mission. 

The waves of social reciprocity mean something more than 
the ebbing and flowing of the flood-tide of society. The 
flotsam and jetsam are rich with the affluent overflow of its 
deeps. Each one bears some treasure away — a pearl in the 
oyster-shell of treasure-trove — a word — a look — as souvenir 
of the occasion. 

"Why should we invite that dowdy Miss Blank?" enquires 
some leader of the social world. " She is in our set, of course, 
but she dresses like a fright, and has no style. I cannot im- 
agine what people see in her that is attractive!" 

Miss Blank is duly invited, however, and, unconscious of any 
social criticism, takes much pleasure in accepting, and as all 
social events are surprise parties in some sense, takes her con- 
tribution to the feast with her. It is her voice. It charms 
and soothes, it flatters and bewilders, it makes friends for her 
wherever she goes. It is low and sweet, an excellent thing in 
woman. Some one asks her to sing. A few stop to listen, 
but the majority, with the license of society, babble on with 
their small talk. Then it ceases, and there is rapt attention. 
It is only an old song, that every one has heard, but it brings 

back to hearts that are arid the sound of the rain on the roof, 
11 



162 



SOCIAL RECIPROCITY. 



the memory of a mother's good-night kiss, the prayer that was 
lisped at her knee. Then it rises, clear, jubilant, and the 
sweet, regretful pain is gone, the tension broken, and the spell 
removed. Song and singer are of the earth again, but they 
have given to each a foretaste of heaven. And they never 
think of Miss Blank again as a dowdy, or without style. This 
is what she gave her hosts in return for their entertainment. 

It is related of Adelaide Phillips, a singer eminent in her 
profession, that she was once invited to a musical com- 
posed of amateurs, who sung, for "her delectation, their most 
ambitious airs. When it came to Miss Phillips' turn to sing, 
she seated herself at the piano, and sung " Kathleen Mavour- ■ 
neen " with such thrilling sweetness that the young Irish girl, 
who was setting the supper table in the next room, forgot all 
her plates and spoons, and, thowing herself into a chair, sobbed 
as if her heart would break — a reciprocal emotion that the 
accomplished singer declared was the greatest compliment 
ever paid her. 

Longfellow, in speaking of his friend Prescott, the historian, 
said: "There is Prescott, always pleasant and merry." And 
again, " My last remembrance of him is a sunny smile. 11 
Could there be a more beautiful souvenir of an absent friend 
than the memory of a " sunny smile? 11 And the smile that 
challenges reciprocity comes from the heart, or it would chill 
with its unresponsive glow, like the snow on the crests of the 
frozen glaciers. There is no courtesy so perfect as the native 
tact of a good heart. In the warmth of sunshine that comes 
from such a source, the sternest nature dissolves and becomes 
congenial. We might all wish to deserve the eulogy contained 
in these four lines : 

" It was only a glad ' good morning/ 
As she passed along her way, 
But it left the morning's glory 
Over the livelong day." 




"IT WAS ONLY A GLAD 'GOOD MORNING* 
AS SHE PASSED ALONG HER WAY." 



YOU AND /. 



163 



The " morning's glory " is nature's highest perfection 
expressed in a simple greeting. 

A prosperous business man, who had catered to the public 
for many years, and was prominent in his profession, was 
asked what incident had made the most lasting impression 
upon him. As he had feasted civic dignitaries and titled 
opulence, it was supposed he would recur to these. But he 
answered that giving a breakfast to a poor working girl, 
who had lost her purse, was the only thing of importance he 
could recall. 

" I can never forget the look of sweet humility with which 
she said 'I can not pay; I can only thank you, and pray for 
you.' Her voice was like that of a little child saying its 
evening prayer, and I felt that it was she who was giving and 
I who was receiving." And this goes far to verify the poet's 
words : 

" A simple maiden in her flower 
Is worth a hundred coat-of-arms." 

How beautifully has Sydney Smith remarked that " Man- 
ners are the shadows of virtues." A portentous frown can 
raise a storm in the most serene social atmosphere. Its own 
reflection will cloud the fairest skies, and ruffle the most tran- 
quil waters. It is useless to apologize for a rude, surly, dis- 
agreeable nature, by assuming that it is the mask to a good 
heart. Any goodness that emanates from such an exterior is 
only a tardy apology dictated by selfishness. A good heart 
never prompts its possessor to incivility. True politeness is 
considerate and reciprocal. " A beautiful behavior," said 
Emerson, u is better than a beautiful form." There are people, 
meeting us constantly in society, who always see us in full 
dress and on guard. We are using our company voices, our 
company manners, taken off and put on with our company 



161 



SOCIAL RECIPROCITY. 



clothes. What a shock it would give them to see the fero- 
cious glance, the withering frown and the caustic sneer we 
keep for ' k our own " in the family circle. To hear the 
unmusical voice without its company inflection. Would we 
not be as tinkling cymbals and sounding brass ? But they are 
not shocked, for they had pierced our subtle armor of veneer- 
ing long ago. They had appraised us at our own value, and, 
so far as they are concerned, we could discard our whole piti- 
ful make-up, and at least be honest brass! Then we would 
receive sincerity for sincerity, instead of hypocrisy for our 
duplicity. What are we worth? What have we for the 
formation of character, for the ennobling of all the powers 
which constitute the higher life of man. " To have known 
her was a liberal education," was said of a grand woman. 
Can we convey our education, our accomplishments, our 
integrity to those with whom we come in contact — diffusing 
an aroma of intellectual sweetness, as we do the perfume of 
roses of our garments? Then, indeed, have we not lived 
in vain. 

" Soul, be but inly bright, 
All outer things must smile, must catch 
The strong, transcendent light." 



THE INFLUENCES OF NATURE. 



BY 

REV. SYLVESTER F. SCOVEL. 




AN may claim to be 
above nature but he 
cannot be independent 
of nature. Having 
within him a spark of 
divinity with a moral 
resemblance to his 
Maker and an invin- 
cible free-will, he be- 
longs in one sense to 
the supernatural; yet 
he is as clearly allied to nature as he is distinct from it. The 
chain of being, in which he is a " distinguished " link, is as vital 
from below as from above. The one column of existence — 
nature the pedestal, man the shaft, and God the capital — has 
much more than a mechanical connection. The life of nature 
is in man as surely as the life of God is. The body is bound 
to nature as both body and soul are bound to God. And as 
the soul is so interwoven with the body that even a perfect 
eternity is inconceivable without this reunion, nature must 
through the latter profoundly affect even the former and thus 

165 



1(36 



YOU AND J. 



influence the whole being. We are not slaves to nature, as 
materialism would make us; but we lie so close to it, are so 
fed by it and fixed in it that we cannot but feel it. Our sen- 
sations are the background of our life, and can the picture be 
dissociated from that into which it is painted ? Because man's 
place in nature is so distinctly at the top, as fixed by science 
and religion both, he is not the less but the more affected by 
nature. To him nature can now come with all her finer sug- 
gestions as well as with her rougher ministries. He is not 
only to be fed but he can think and feel and will about nature, 
and every power of his varied being may be approached and 
enlisted. The more there is in man and the loftier the point 
occupied as to nature and the larger the trust for the manipu- 
lation of nature given him, the more points of contact there 
must be between the two and the greater the reciprocal influ- 
ence. God has most to do with nature and man has more to 
do with it the more he is like God in his position towards it. 
We can no more live without being influenced by nature than 
the root can sustain the tree without drawing upon the ele- 
ments of the soil surrounding it. Thus, as Whittier writes, 
nature 

" Holds in wood and field 
Her thousand sun-lit censers still, 
To spell of flower or shrub we yield 
Against or with our will." 

Nature invigorates life — physical. Contact with the soil 
and sun are plain conditions of race-strength. No Hercules 
can kill Antseus until he holds him away from the vivify- 
ing touch of Mother Earth. The modern city is in danger of 
becoming a Hercules. Strong bodies underlie all symmetrical 
development, and we are won by nature to bodily develop- 
ment in a thousand ways. For many, beside the wayward 
boy, she pries open the doors of close houses and provides 



THE INFL UENCES OF NA TURE. 



167 



such marvellous feasts for eye and ear and every sense that 
we must follow her into the fields. Thence we return with 
some information, but also with that which is yet more im- 
portant, the vitality which conditions our use of all the inform- 
ation we either have or can gain. How we walk, or ride, or 
long to possess this or to see that until (the better because 
unconsciously) nature has become one free gymnasium. 
This way we reach that wonderful culture of the senses shown 
in the distance-penetrating sight of the sailor, or the hearing 
of the Indian, or the touch of an artist. We can mark in 
great lines across our race-maps something of the details of 
nature's influence upon physical strength and its accompany- 
ing virtues. We know, in general, what to look for from the 
man of the north and the man of the south, from the denizen 
of the plain and the bolder mountaineer. The closer to na- 
ture we can live the more correctives shall we have for the 
attending evils and some of the dangers of a highly artificial 
civilization. Nothing is clearer than that the noblest culture 
of the world of to-day either springs from the soil or implies 
nearly constant contact with nature. The city must drink 
ever fresh streams from the country, or stagnate. The Eng- 
lish peerage lifts up " the axe upon the thick trees " — an 
ancient test of strength, and all customs tend to bring all 
populations to nature, in the summer. Thus nature, skillful 
mother that she is, half unconsciously develops for us bodies 
v/hich partake of her own energy and grace, and become the 
handsomest and best instruments of usefulness, as well as the 
most sensitive means of enjoyment. 

But no less distinct or important are her influences in 
educating our minds. Begin with the baby, wondering in its 
cradle-world. The very unsteadiness of that cradle (more, 1 
fear, a convenience to nurses than a benefit to infancy) may 
well typify the uncertainties of the awakening mind. We 



163 



YOU AND I. 



know little enough of its emergence from dreamland, but it 
seems well ascertained that we come to ourselves by the aid 
of external objects, L e., of nature. The first discriminations 
among the confused mass of things, the acquirement of the 
perception of externality, the naming of things and the remem- 
bering of the names with the classification of the things remem- 
bered — all these are hints of nature's processes in evoking 
mind. Then the immediate value of things begins to attract 
us, while pain forbids us and with powerful aid from the now 
awakened tastes and preferences the education goes rapidly 
forward. Mind is now aroused to attack at every point that 
storehouse for all our possible needs we call nature. An 
infinite variety of motives presses us from within but the exer- 
tion of mind is the uniform result. 

And how remarkably true has this been since men began to 
study nature sincerely, — inductively ! When man endea- 
vors to learn what is, instead of to find what he thinks ought to 
be, he makes rapid progress because then he fits his processes 
into nature's grooves and finds her seams and seizes the 
pendent strings to each of which its own little world of facts 
lies attached within the shadows. Thus we are ever influ- 
enced mentally to push on. " En avant Messieurs!" cries our 
greatest teacher. (That noble French teacher was but an 
echo of nature.) Ever rewarding but ever displaying new 
vistas or alluring into new crevices by the light half-bursting 
out of them, ever difficult but not inaccessible, unrolling her 
scroll and interpreting it just rapidly enough to reward atten- 
tion and yet to stimulate curious inquiry, ever leading higher 
but ever pointing the kindled Alpine ardor to heights just 
beyond, there is no such stimulus to mind as that which 
nature furnishes. 

And how marvelous it is that there should be in matter 
what should thus so appeal to mind! A moment's thought 



THE I NFL UENCES OF NA TURE, 



169 



and the marvel carries us to that goal we must not now anti- 
cipate. There is mind in nature! These orderly arrange- 
ments that yield such infinite products when coy nature 
"drops an apple at Newton's feet as an invitation to follow 
her to the stars," are not born of matter alone. This steadi- 
ness of nature's laws, without which we could not even think 
correctly and with which we instinctively underbuild all our 
acting as well, mean the mysterious nearness of an informing 
soul — a true over-soul. However men may account for it, it 
must remain incontestably true that because there is mind in 
nature it is most admirably prepared to lead out, and to lead 
on and up, the mind that is in man. What radiant triumph 
of our great century is so marked as man's conquest of na- 
ture's forces ! And yet it is only nature's influence, through 
her own highly organized and vital system, appealing to and 
evoking the capabilities of man. 

In our intellections and emotions these influences are con- 
fessed by all. The impressive phenomena of nature stir us 
so profoundly that some foolish men attempt to make them 
the sole origin even of our religious feelings. This mistake 
only marks their real power. Select for an instant the fact 
that this globe of ours hurtles along its orbit at the rate of 
sixty -eight thousand miles an hour ! "What matchless proof 
of mighty power ! A thousand miles a minute !" It stops your 
breathing to come anywhere near such a fact! It is like 
standing on the platform when the express thunders by ! Were 
there an obstacle met even so slight as to graze the keel of 
this great air-ship what a new sense of the motion we should 
have! But the movement is neither felt nor seen, "So silently 
the vast machine obeys the law of heaven!" The wonder 
grows that we are going so and yet so safely and that it is the 
same from age to age. Why, the mental education of a single 
fact of such proportions is incalculable! All large thoughts 



170 YOU AND I. 

can find n place in the mind which knows that. A man 
becomes a cosmopolite indeed, a true citizen of the cosmos, 
who feels himself traveling through it at such a rate. 

Necessarily, now, nature must furnish marked elements in 
literature and thus manifest its mental training power anew. 
Literature is but the form in which the last results of study 
gain final currency and credence. It is fact mixed with 
thought. It is man's life mingled with nature. Take any 
species of literature and extract the nature from it, if }'ou 
can. Little danger of literature's becoming less while nature 
becomes more. Science will not harm poetry but strengthen 
its wings and put directing power in the "tail of its judg- 
ment " besides. Fiction, even, will be all the better the more 
natural it becomes, though there be many reasons for choosing 
amid the various realisms which it may portray. And the 
same thing will be true in general of the education before, and 
in, and after school. All education, general and special, will 
only be more useful and more productive of enlarged mental 
power the more we know of nature. Parents and children will 
be delighted fellow-students in the new marvels. Teacher and 
pupil will be fellow-investigators. Society will not drop 
nature with a single remark about the weather, as though 
our own bodily comfort were all nature had to take care of. 
Summer vacations will no longer be danced or slept away, 
but new acquaintance with ever fresh surfaces will recuperate 
mind and body alike. Hail the day when the mind-awaken- 
ing influences of nature shall be more thoroughly understood 
and more eagerly welcomed and less hinderd by fashions and 
folly. 

But now as we enter another realm we encounter the 
phenomena of free-will, and the inquiry meets us : Can nature 
make character? Must not her suggestive influences fade 
away here and have as little to do with the real man as the 



THE I NFL UENCES OF NA TURE. 



171 



mist -wreaths have to do with the mountains they so fantasti- 
cally bedeck? We answer the first query with a round Yes; 
but add, of course, that it must be indirectly. Though indi- 
rectly, however, not less powerfully, for thus it only comes 
under the law in harmony with which everything does its 
work on character. And just at this point — the degree of 
nature's power to mold character — we need caution. If we 
are clods, no matter how highly organized, nature can reach 
and mold us whether we will or not. Indeed, then, we have 
no will. But, being more than clods and more than nature, 
we expose to her influences a surface on which the finest, 
deepest, largest, — aye, the most lasting impressions may be 
made ; and yet a surface of such peculiar texture that nature 
cannot do all the work, nor bear all the responsibility. We 
can have no affinity with the Eastern mysticism that makes 
matter equal sin, nor with the " Wilde " doctrine that " Salva- 
tion is by Beauty." In nothing is nature more remarkable 
than in the absence of assumption either to be aught other 
than she is, or to do aught beyond her proper mission. Indeed 
nature ought not to be held responsible for man. Moore's 
description of the Vale of Cashmere is said by good authority 
to be inadequate — so exquisite is the scene. But the same 
authority adds: "Perhaps nowhere else can there be found so 
much sin and suffering concealed with so much natural loveli- 
ness. The Eden smiles of nature appear through tears and 
thorns and the shadow of death." (Orbison.) Did not Bishop 
Heber write " Though every prospect pleases, and only man is 
vile"? Though not everything, yet much. The extremes of 
nature make the Esquimaux narrow and the South Sea 
Islander indolent. But this only proves that the impulse to 
toil which her severity imparts is beneficent until men forget 
or fail to learn how to modify her rigors ; while kindlier influ- 
ences open the way to leisure though men abuse it. 



172 



YOU AND I. 



There are easily definable directions in which nature en- 
courages the development of our noblest characteristics. This 
moral function makes the Universe a University for man's 
formation, and lies very close to its real reason for being. The 
energies of a plant end in a seed because the seed contains life 
in itself, and the energies of nature reach their very highest 
results in man's character because that is an immortal product. 
Can any man doubt that the promises of spring cultivate 
hopefulness and good cheer, or that these have much to do 
with life's success, or less plain is the peace and sobriety of 
feeling which come with the mature fruitage of autumn? 




" So in my heart, a sweet unwonted feeling 
Stirs, like the wind in ocean's hollow shell, 
Through all its secret chambers sadly stealing, 
Yet finds no words its mystic charms to tell." 

And, noting the birds flitting noiselessly from spray to spray, 

the same writer adds: 

" Silent as a sweet wandering thought that only 
Shows it's bright wings and softly glides away." 



THE INFLUENCES OF NATURE. 



17 S 



No wonder that Whittier,who has always lived so close to 
nature's heart, declares that 

" We lack but open eye and ear, 
To find the Orient's marvels here; — 
The still, small voice in autumn's hush, 
Yon maple wood, the burning bush." 

He adds: 

" The summer and the winter here 
Midway a truce are holding, 
A soft consenting atmosphere 
Their tents of peace enfolding." 

How distinctly we find patience taught by nature's endur- 
ance of imprisoned forces in winter! The observer gathers 
perseverance from the gnarled cedar on the cliff's side, or the 
tenacious grip of the last leaves. In animal life, of course,, 
there are many direct lessons, but how strikingly confirmatory 
of our deepest outgoings of soul are the migrations of birds 
and the instinct of the carrier dove ! We rind every moral 
impression deepened when we reflect upon that radical differ- 
ence between our own nature and that which surrounds us, 
which enabled Kant to stand unmoved despite the contrast 
between man's physical insignificance and the vastness of the 
stellar universe. If we have an " imperative " within, we have 
also a susceptibility which allies the moral nature, with its 
great jewel, to all that is without, and makes soul-culture har- 
monious with that of body and mind. Many associations of 
nature suggest purity, and familiarity with it is the best aid 
in calming dangerous excitements. Here we may learn self- 
control by other society than that of men. So Bryant says : 

" But let me often to these solitudes 
Retire, and in Thy presence re-assure 
My feeble virtue. Here its enemies, 
The passions, at Thy plainer footsteps shrink 
And tremble and are still." 



174 YOU AND I. 

Every soul feels the invitation to introspection and self-ac- 
quaintance (the condition of all character) which any resort to 
nature suggests. The influence of nature is always toward 
humility. So vast is it beyond us, so inscrutable beneath our 
feet, so intricately interwoven where we know it best, that 
even discoveries do not encourage vanity. Even when we 
contemplate soul as greater than material we are at once 
reminded that essentials are universal, and when we think of 
the greater Mind in nature we are only overawed the more. 
Dependence is inseparable from even ordinary knowledge of 
nature and it is like the ballast of a ship in its moral office. 
Industry is the incessant undertone of nature's busy hum. 
The world teems with industrious life. Major and minor 
forms of life are always visible, seizing opportunities and 
working out at once their mission and their salvation. He 
must fail in sensitiveness who does not feel that a lazy man is 
a contradiction to the law of things. And even in that prince 
of virtues, self-imparting, there is the amplest foundation. Is 
there anything which exists for itself? Does even the " strug- 
gle for existence " really contradict the assertion that anything 
is made for everything? He who seeks to turn everything 
toward himself is out of harmony with either the mineral, the 
vegetable or the animal kingdom and belongs nowhere. He 
who receives all and gives nothing is " creation's blot, cre- 
ation's blank." Even the germs of a brotherhood as com- 
prehensive as the race may be discerned. The nobler types 
of life which surround us should make us ashamed, also, of a 
careless and thoughtless life. Even the midget has its pur- 
pose. The bee will not go to ''London or Rome." First 
lessons in natural philosophy have a good philosophy of life 
in them. And when we look at the grandeur and sweep of 
nature, how can one be content to live a life of frippery and 
folly! Amid such stupendous marvels, a greater, because 



THE INFLUENCES OF NATURE. 175 

more unaccountable marvel is the human butterfly. We 
must be sobered by witnessing the onward sweep of the things 
which surround us. Men furnish the only loafers in the uni- 
verse. How deep the purpose of a good life which may be 
learned from nature. 




In these calm shades Thy milder majesty, 
And to the beautiful order of Thy works 
Conform the order of our lives." 

Bryant. 



176 



YOU AND I. 



We may even go beyond the individual life and find traces 
of these powerful moral influences in the popular character- 
istics of nations and in society's most permanent formations. 
Scarcely any one can have missed the frequent assertions with 
regard to the mountains and the sea in their influence on 
liberty. If " ye crags and peaks " was uttered by a myth, it 
was a Swiss myth and means freedom. The whole world, 
taken together, has furnished a grand theatre for a great race. 
Nature is meant to be the nurse of great men. Upon a 
single condition this effect is really produced. The moral 
teachings of nature cannot sustain us against corruption from 
within, but they can go with us (the inner man being steadied 
by the one correct standard) with most helpful force in all 
moral development. When we have found God, through 
nature, we receive the proper correctives and sustaining 
motives. With Him retained in our knowledge, we are pre- 
vented from debasing nature itself. Without Him, we are 
speedily given over first to the misunderstanding of nature's 
witness to Him, and then to the neglect of its ennobling 
influences upon ourselves. 

We are prepared, therefore, to ask the question, with some 
sense of what depends upon the answer: Can nature influ- 
ence us in our religious being? If we must turn away from 
nature to reach God it will go ill with us after having been 
so profoundly influenced by nature's subtle forces in all that 
precedes. And yet we have seen that we must reach God or 
abuse nature. Profoundly thankful may we be that our life 
is not thus torn apart. Torn apart it certainly would be if 
God and nature were separated. We should be deprived of 
nature's aid just at the point of our highest need. Religion 
enfolds our highest possibilities and makes corresponding de- 
mands. Here, then, we shall need more of nature, and make 
more demands upon her as more are made upon us. And 



THE INFLUENCES OF NA TURE. 



177 



can we think for a moment that a Divine Intelligence would 
create a world with such a fatal schism in it as would obtain 
were the man dissociated, when he would know God, from all 
by which he had hitherto been surrounded and molded? All 
the presumptions of sound thought and common sense are in 
favor of expecting to find nature's influences strongly and 
definitely religious. 

No doubt this has been denied. Nature has been too often 
studied in a dark closet and by artificial light. This method 
of exclusion has resulted in the non-religious or even anti- 
religious view. Pride of intellect has aided to make the new 
sense of power the mother of self-sufficiency. Increased facts 
for investigation have been suffered to lead onward and away 
from the great question of origins. Minute knowledge com- 
ing close to life has been mistaken for knowledge of the mys- 
tery of life itself. Great generalizations have seemed large 
enough, almost for worship. New discoveries, when it had 
been thought the ultima thule had been reached (as in the 
lengthening of the spectrum), have made man's lease of power 
over nature seem too absolute to admit of a higher Absolute. 

But, notwithstanding all this, the true view is so trans- 
parently reasonable and so satisfactory to mind and soul alike 
that the greater learning leads men back to God. Men are 
adoring Him more, now, as revealed in nature, than ever 
before. They reverence the " Creator of the ends of the 
earth " more profoundly because they know, at least a little 
more amply, what " creation " means. The " Great Com- 
panion " is not dead. Nature was never before so broad a 
mirror for God and never so brilliantly polished. The visible 
is becoming daily the ornamental peristyle of the invisible. 
The voice of God walks again in the garden. 

This becomes clearer when we set the religious view of 

nature over against the three defective views which are com- 
12 



178 



YOU AND I. 



monly held. The mere scientist stops with nature's materials. 
Those who handle nature as only so much organized matter 
to be torn to pieces by analysis, and scrutinized with lenses, and 
revealed in large and little to the eye of wonder or of use, 
never receive any religious suggestions. Alas ! some of them 
hear within her " long-drawn aisles " only the melancholy 
monotone of agnostic despair. For the very regularity and 
beauty and symmetry of the statue they deny the Artist. One 
may fence all the vistas of nature with a materialistic suppo- 
sition and thenceforward there is no prospect. Even wide 
generalizations and magnificent laws that remain are doubled 
back upon themselves and really end nowhere. Devotion and 
religion, there can be none. And more's the marvel when we 
remember that Newton and Darwin were alike in dealing 
with practical infinities — the one of space, the other of time ; 
and that therefore there need be no more reason to fear Dar- 
win's evolution than Newton's gravitation. Both must infalli- 
bly lead nearer to God (granting, for the moment, their 
equality in scientific value). Either way or any way to the 
Infinite must bring the " supernatural " into our thought and 
life, and thenceforward (as Proctor has it) 

"There is nothing to do but to bow the knee." 

The mere sentimentalist finds in nature only an echo of 
his own voice. He makes of her a nose of wax to be twisted 
into the image of his own fancies. Such men hear and see 
nothing of God in nature. Tympanum and retina are both 
preoccupied. As the Scotch say: " Wha's like our ain sel's?" 
Sentiment is not to be depreciated, and for its just use nature 
is prepared with inexhaustible store of parallels to human 
experiences and subtle correspondences with human moods ; 
but sentimentalism simply imposes itself on nature and rarely 
finds anything, much less God. Those who take the com- 



THE J NFL UENCES OF NA TURE. 



179 



mercial view only see so many acres — woodland, upland or 
bottomland — with such and such capacities for grain or gra- 
zing. In the trees they see shade or merchantable timber. 
To the skies they never look except to keep the " weather- 




as well as the higher half of its utility. The pride of posses- 
sion comes in to distract the mind here, as that of intellect 
and feeling came to the others, and he is ready to say, " My 
barns and my goods," with an emphasis which is apt to bring 
God upon the scene with a startling, " Thou fool.'" 

See how the really religious suggestions of nature accept 
all that is true in each of these views and then go beyond. 
Mere science opens the scroll and describes the hieroglyphics, 
but the religious suggestion gives them a meaning, and the 



180 



YOU AND I. 



perplexing symbols reach their noblest meaning in causing our 
minds to touch the Divine Intelligence, and putting the hand 
of our weakness into that of Infinite Power. Mere sentiment- 
alism tricks out nature in the tawdry gauds of half-unreal and 
half-wicked feelings, while the religious suggestions would 
present her with all possible power of sympathy, yet arrayed 
in the pure and dignified garb which artists always give to 
angels. The merely commercial view has less of mind and 
soul in it than either of the others, and is to be apologized for 
only by the strong necessities which bend men in that direc- 
tion and gradually dull their vision to all else. Nature's 
religious suggestions are not hostile to commercial values — 
far from it ; but they do not suffer men to brutalize the won- 
ders of God's creative work by treating them as only material 
for trade. Everything good in each common view of nature 
is assimilated and, indeed, glorified by the religious uplook. 

Nor are these suggestions to be counted the property of 
any select few. Nothing is plainer than the universality of 
the susceptibility to these loftier influences of nature. Derz- 
havin's great poem, for example, is known to be a " household 
word of culture in twenty nations," is printed all over the 
West and gleams out of the embroideries of the East. Hear 
how it links God and nature: 

" O, Thou Eternal One, whose presence bright 
All space doth occupy, all motion guide; 
Being above all beings! Mighty One 
Whom none can comprehend and none explore; 
Who fill'st existence with Thyself alone, 
Embracing all, supporting, ruling o'er, 
Being whom we call God, and know no more! 
God! thus alone my lowly thoughts can soar 
Midst TJiy vast works, admire, obey, adore. 
And when the tongue is eloquent no more, 
The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude." 



MORNING LESSONS FROM NATURE, 



THE INFL UENCES OF NA TURE. 



181 



The religious influences of nature are so pronounced that 
peasant and philosopher share them. Even Goethe called 
nature a a dialogue between God and man. 7 ' The world's 
religions, despite all their horrors of cruelty and their debasing 
corruptions, bear perpetual testimony to God's witness of Him- 
self in nature, and sometimes with wonderful force and 
beauty. Humanity could never lose all the original impress- 
sion and information given when the true God was known 
universally as the Author, Owner and Disposer of nature. 
He who planted the race in Eden that nature might be 
known from the beginning at its best and loveliest, meant to 
enfold mankind in memories which should so easily be aided 
~by daily vision that His voice and presence should never be 
lost out of sun and sky and earth and air. And when He 
came nearer in the special revelation to the Hebrews, how 
amply was nature interwoven with the divinely prescribed 
methods of worship. Think of the new moons, and the first- 
fruits, of the booths and water-drawings, of the lights and 
textures and colors of tabernacle and temple. Far from the 
nature-worship of the decaying nations, it was equally removed 
from the denial of nature's worship of God which charaterizes 
blind unbelief to-day. 

There is ever increasing proof from the growth of knowl- 
edge, from the refinement of emotion, from the development 
of taste, that nature will become an ever greater aid to 
worship. To the threshold of the larger discussion concern- 
ing the certainty with which and the methods by which and 
the attributes in which nature reveals God, we have just 
come. Space fails, and the reader is committed to the rich 
literature of Natural Religion for further investigation. 

But especially is he commended to the simple and natural 
expedient of laying together the Word and the Works of God. 
The open Bible spread upon the larger leaves of nature's 



182 



YOU AND I. 



great book will fill and thrill the thoughtful and candid mind, 
will let " knowledge grow from more to more," while " more 
of reverence with her dwells"; will elevate to loftier views 
of the Divine Majesty and win to better conceptions of the 
Divine Goodness; will aid in hours of holy communion, and 
help to prepare for a share in that song-burst of the repre- 
sentative powers of heaven and earth: " Thou art worthy, 
O Lord, to receive glory, and honor, and power : for Thou 
hast created all things, and for Thy pleasure they are and 
were created." — Rev. iv., n. 




MANNERS CONSISTENT WITH 
RELIGION. 



BY 



REV. WM. G. ELIOT, D. D. 




HE student of human 
nature can scarcely help 
being impressed by the fact 
that the minds of no two per- 
sons are exactly alike. Moved 
by the same passions, influenced by 



the same desires. 



cherishing 



same 



hopes, that wonderful complex unit, the 
human soul, may find its counterpart, but never its exact 
image. Analyze and classify the faculties until the list is 
exhausted, they are simply manifestations of that mysterious 
creation of God which, lord of itself, eludes the curious eye of 
the psychologist and fails to fulfil his predictions. Yet this 
personality, having the power to screen itself from observation, 
betraying its secret, working to God alone, unconsciously 
leaves a record of itself from day to day, from hour to hour, 
in the hearts of those nearest itself, and this unwritten testi- 
mony is the revelation of a man's character. 

When a culprit is brought before the bar of justice in order 
to extenuate the evil deed, as an exceptional one for him, or to 
prove the moral improbability of his having committed the 

183 



184 



MANNERS CONSISTENT WITH RELIGION. 



act, he appeals to those with whom he has had daily inter- 
course to testify to his good character. If they do so, the 
value of their testimony depends upon the harmony between 
his inner life and its outward manifestation. He who has uni- 
formly shown himself kind, generous and forgiving, is it pos- 
sible that he betrayed his friend? He who has apparently 
guarded his honor as the apple of his eye, has he been en- 
gaged in a fraudulent transaction? It may be. In the secret 
chambers of the soul, perhaps, lurk bitter passions whose 
existence is unsuspected by a man's friends until he yields to 
some strong temptation. There are few persons, however, 
whose living testimony concerning themselves is thus false 
and when this does occur, the record of the past often changes 
its aspect in the light of succeeding events. It is we who 
have not rightly interpreted the meaning of word and deed. 

The physiologist informs us that the brain is covered with 
lines, crossing and interlacing in every direction. In the 
head of a young child these lines are few in number, but with 
age and thought they become indefinitely multiplied. Could 
their language be read by a higher intelligence, they would 
betray the secrets of a life written in hieroglyphics. 

A simpler record is stamped upon the face of the adult, 
which often he who runs may read. It is seen in the eye, cold 
and hard, or soft and sympathetic, in the mouth, which is per- 
haps the most tell-tale feature, and in every line traced by 
thought or feeling. If, then, it be so difficult to dissemble, to 
conceal the real character, where shall we begin if we wish to 
acquire the grace of beautiful manners ? Are they like a gar- 
ment that can be purchased and thrown on the wearer to con- 
ceal the deformity within, or the mantle of a king carelessly 
worn and only half concealing the richer fabric beneath? Fine 
manners are not a cloak for ugliness, they are the fitting 
apparel of a royal nature. Let us begin then from within. 



YOU AND I. 



185 



We can send our children to dancing school to learn " gen- 
teel deportment." Why should we not? Society establishes 
certain rules that govern social intercourse, and to these it is 
best to conform. Frequently they bring order where other- 
wise would be chaos. Most of its regulations, however, 
pre-suppose a higher law underlying them, and giving them 
its sanction. Without this they would be mere dead form, 
and upon this they depend for their life. This law is the law 
of the inner life, and has its root in elevated moral and relig- 
ious feeling. Without this, social forms are a mockery. 

Any one can learn the rules of etiquette — can any one 
acquire fine manners ? The desire to do so aids in the attain- 
ment, but he is most successful who strives first to reach the 
higher sources from which these flow. Fine manners are the 
graceful and beautiful expression of the teaching of Christian- 
ity. If the fine setting makes the jewel appear more radiant, 
let us have it, but first the jewel — why should we attempt to 
set off that which is but paste and has no value save through 
a deception! 

Manners, to be fine, must have dignity and repose. These 
qualities should naturally attend that elevation of soul which 
produces calmness. He who is undisturbed by the petty 
anxieties of life, who realizes the greatness of the destiny to 
which every human being is born, will not be affected by 
every untoward circumstance. With steady hand guiding the 
helm, with gauge unalterably turned towards the promised 
land, the storms that pass by leave him calm amid the tumult. 
Striving towards an ever higher ideal, trusting in the " power 
which makes for righteousness," he can wait for the kingdom 
of God, " which cometh not with observation." 

It was such elevation of soul, such calm confidence in the 
ultimate triumph of right, that sustained Washington through 
the misfortunes and discouragements of the Revolutionary War 



186 



MANNERS CONSISTENT WITH RELIGION. 



and still more trying events at its close. Under all circum- 
stances, self-possessed and calm, he was a spectacle for men to 
admire. A like greatness of soul withheld Lincoln from any 
vulgar exhibition of passion, and from the alternations of 
extravagant elation or hopeless despair, when burdened with a 
responsibility almost too great for human endurance. It is 
this undisturbed serenity which makes Christ a central figure, 
towering above the rest of mankind to the height of moral 
grandeur. 

He who wishes to be dignified, to bear himself as one 
worthy of the respect of others, must first respect himself. 
We can not hide from ourselves; and the consciousness of 
unworthiness betrays itself in subtle ways to our fellow-men. 
" Know thyself." Yes, and honor the divinity within. First 
self-respect, and then respect from others. 

Let not self-respect, however, degenerate into self-conceit. 
Self-respect is quiet and contained, self-conceit aggressive and 
loud. Self-respect tends to induce reverence for one's supe- 
riors; self-conceit exaggerates its own ability at the expense of: 
others. The self-respecting man never obtrudes his personal- 
ity; the conceited man is never content to remain in the 
background. This is perhaps one of the faults of the so-called 
Young America, though let us remember that there are two 
Young Americas, one forward and bold, the other having all 
the loveliness and modesty of youth. We hope that the latter 
will increase at the expense of the former. It is fitting and 
beautiful that the inexperience of youth should yield pre- 
cedence to the wisdom of age. He who is willing to receive 
instruction in his youth, may in his turn impart wisdom in his 
old age. Vain and shallow are those young people who have 
no reverence for age, and who treat their superiors with care- 
less indifference. How can their manners be improved with- 
out striking at the root of the evil and imparting to them 



YOU AND I. 



187 



that spirit of reverence for whatever is above them, which 
finds at last its culmination in the adoration of the Supreme 
Intelligence ! 

Another quality whose manifestation is alike beautiful in 
age and youth, is sincerity. Flattery may please the foolish, 
but it inspires sensible people with contempt for the flatterer, 
and suspicion regarding his motives. Nothing is more accept- 
able than a kind appreciation of one's efforts, but this is very 
different from flattery. Flattery is not the language of 
friendship, but of diplomacy, and betrays a soul so vulgar that 
it appeals to the base, rather than the noble qualities of human 
nature. He who flatters, thereby acknowledges his inferiority. 
Kings do not flatter — they leave that to their sycophantic 
followers. 

Although sincerity is opposed to flattery, it does not require 
a rude assertion of unpleasant truths. When fidelity in friend- 
ship demands that I tell one, whom I love, of some mistake he 
is making, some fault of which he is unconscious, let me do it 
tenderly — shrinking from the infliction of pain, save where it 
is necessary. There are some blunt people who go about 
"speaking their minds, 7 '' and dealing blows right and left. 
Such indiscriminate execution creates more bitterness and ill- 
feeling than the amount of evil it uproots, and there will 
always be more or less suspicion that the zeal of these self- 
constituted reformers is partly inspired by a questionable 
motive. The unlovely manners suggest an unlovely spirit. 
It is the old story of the wind and sun trying to force the 
traveller to remove his cloak. Courtesy and kindness will 
succeed where rudeness only makes the traveller draw more 
closely around him the cloak of error. 

An indispensable requisite of fine manners is amiability, 
and those who do not possess this quality must at least have 
sufficient self-control to manifest its semblance. The kind 



138 MANNERS CONSISTENT WITH RELIGION. 

word, the winning smile, the thoughtful act, are these not 
beautiful in themselves, and a part of fine manners? Amiabil- 
ity not only accepts the kindly forms of society, it creates for 
itself new forms ; for a warm heart is spontaneous. A truly 
amiable person, one who loves his fellow-beings, and who, in 
addition, sees and appreciates their finer qualties, does he not 
both create and discover new beauty everywhere? Such a 
one, if he possess tact, seems always to find the missing notes 
which will change discord into harmony. 

Tact, which is very necessary in social intercourse, is largely 
attained through the amiable desire to give pleasure and avoid 
the infliction of pain. We frequently hear this quality refer- 
red to as though it belonged to an essentially worldly nature; 
but it is equally desirable in a Christian gentleman, who should 
be a man of the world in its best sense — in the world, though 
not of the world. Why have we any more right to inflict 
mental than bodily pain? Tact can make the deformed for- 
get their deformity, the awkward their shambling gait, restor- 
ing to them the beauty of unconscious action. It can render 
eloquent those who are silent and shy, and create happiness 
where else had been disappointment and chagrin. Tact is 
the gentle touch, which transmutes everything within its reach. 

In social intercourse, nothing is more distasteful to persons 
of refined nature, than undue familiarity. We should be 
shocked if one who was a comparative stranger walked into 
the house with muddy boots and made himself perfectly at 
home. Is this any worse than intrusion into the private life, 
— into those personal experiences which should be sacred. 
Always an open, frank, kindly manner, but never obtrusiveness. 
The dissembler has much which he is ashamed to reveal, the 
sincere man much which is too sacred to reveal. There is 
nothing more unpleasant to a sensitive person than to be 
made the subject of a personal remark. We have known an 



YOU AND 1. 



189 



ill-timed jest, a careless sneer, to end, at its beginning, a real 
attachment. Rash is he who touches with rude hand the 
delicate mechanism of human feeling. 

What better test is there of the tone, the refinement, the 
manners of guests at any social gathering, than the discussion 
or avoidance of personalities. As we listen to gossip we feel 
that we are drifting among the rocks, the shoals and quick- 
sands of social life; but let some topic of general interest be 
introduced and again we are out on the broad ocean of eternal 
truth, breathing the pure air of heaven. Shall we not so 
interest our young people in all the living issues of the day, in 
science and art, in truth and beauty, that their minds will be 
too full of other interests to cherish a morbid desire for gossip ! 
Fine conversation is one of the most elevating and refining 
influences, and happy are those who can sit at the feet of wise 
and eloquent teachers. And these teachers ! Their eloquence 
alone lends them grace. When poor Samuel Johnson, the 
most gifted, and the most afflicted of men, discoursed like a 
god, the twitchings of his feet, the rolling of his great body 
and his asthmatic puffings, were forgotten in intellectual 
delight. . What is the intoxication of wine, compared with the 
intoxication of fine speech ! 

The good manners of any person are an inspiration to all 
those with whom he comes in contact. They are to the eye 
what the eloquence of speech is to the ear. Subdued by their 
charm, he who is ordinarily careless and rude, becomes for the 
time being courteous and refined; for manners are learned 
through example. 

As life is a perpetual imparting and receiving, it is desirable 
to seek for ourselves and our children the society of the good, 
the wise and the intelligent. Intercourse with them is a per- 
petual uplifting to higher levels, especially for the young, who 
are more sensitive to the atmosphere in which they live than 



190 



MANNERS CONSISTENT WITH RELIGION. 



are older people. In the presence of some whom we know, 
what is beautiful, true and fitting seems the only natural action. 
Of a noble and good man, it was once said that his presence 
was a perpetual benediction. What is evolution in morals and 
intelligence but a natural interchange of help in which every 
man is consciously a guide and helper to those below him, 
while the inflowing spirit of God, ever in communion with 
man and received in the fullest measure by the soul most open 
to its entrance, draws the race onward and upward. 

If we seek the society of our superiors that we may advance, 
we must not refuse all aid to those who see less clearly than 
we. Even an inferior may be strong in some direction where 
we are weak. A really superior person never exhibits conde- 
scension to an inferior, for greatness is content to give and 
receive out of the fulness of its life. Indeed, condescension is 
always the mark of a shallow nature, as well as an index of 
poor breeding and manners. He who condescends to the 
lcwly, cringes to the great. 

As the qualities which produce fine breeding are transmitted 
from generation to generation, we find them inherent in cer- 
tain families. We say of such that they have " gentle blood," 
thereby expressing our belief in the laws of heredity. He 
who is " to the manner born " is more fortunate than the child 
of uncultured parents, who themselves never possessed the 
advantages afforded to their children through industry and 
self-denial. This is so common in America it fails to excite 
remark. I have seen the " old people " sit comfortably and 
cosily by the kitchen fire, discoursing in homely phrase, while 
an elegant daughter entertained her company in the parlor. 
In such cases the " old people " are inclined to over-estimate 
the importance of social advantages and sacrifice too much that 
their children may possess them. It sometimes requires several 
generations of wealth before the responsibilities which money 



YOU AND I. 



191 



brings are rightly understood. Those who have never felt the 
want of money attach less importance to its possession than 
the nonveraiix riches. Yet the self-made man, after he has 




-acquired a fortune, seeks for his children not so much riches 
as social prestige, — for his sons, through following a profes- 
sion rather than a tk trade, 1 ' for his daughters, through alliance 
with some old family. 



192 



MANNERS CONSISTENT WITH RELIGION. 



The self-made man is not always like Mr. Howell's repre- 
sentation in " Silas Lapham." Some there are who, born in 
small towns, among an ignorant population, and receiving 
their only education in the little log school-house, yet, 
through their innate refinement, have exhibited courtly man- 
ners when worldly success brought them into intercourse with 
well-bred people. It is the glory of our republican country 
that any man can assert his native power, and that there are 
no barriers to ability and determination. It has been said 
that in England every man's foot is on the neck of the man 
next below him, and his knee bent to the one above. Here 
no one need to cringe or grovel; nothing is required but the 
courtliness and kindliness of good manners. How beautiful, 
how grand is this simplicity ! Although the " claims of long 
descent " are worthy of consideration, yet nature is democratic 
and recognizes no privileged class. Our scientists and scholars, 
our soldiers and statesmen, are many of them " from the 
people." Good, sturdy stock they generally are, for blood 
does " tell," but not always of distinguished ancestry. Wealth 
may be monopolized; talent can not, nor does it always run 
in families. Perhaps no one of the descendants of a great man 
will inherit just that combination of qualities which peculiarly 
fitted him for some noble work. As in mind, so in manner. 
The scion of a distinguished house may be a boor through 
perversion of nature, while some one whose family name had 
never been seen in the " annals of his country," or in the 
society announcements, shines as nature's gentleman. The 
country cousins may at first appear shy and awkward, but 
give them a winter in the city and, if they have innate refine- 
ment, the awkwardness will soon wear off. They may be 
even more pleasing in their manners than their city-bred rela- 
tives, if they retain the freshness of their enthusiasm, a quality 
which is too apt to be lost in the giddy whirl of pleasure. 



YOU AND I. 



193 



season after season. That man must be callous who can 
remain long among refined people without acquiring something 
of their good breeding. His first sensation, perhaps, is one of 
discomfort. When the loud laugh is not re-echoed, he feels 
the reflex influence of the disagreeable impression it has pro- 
duced, yet can not at once learn to practice self-restraint. Let 
the iron of mortification enter his soul — it is a good teacher. 

The necessity of self-restraint in all things which society 
imposes is one of its elevating and refining influences. Are 
you angry? The drawing-room is no place for the exhibition 
of passion. Are you pleased? Express your satisfaction in 
courteous phrase, not through violent hilarity. Has nature 
given you a good appetite? Satisfy the craving at home, if 
you will, .but in your enjoyment of the delicacies at the table 
of your host, do not forget that reasonable self-restraint which 
politeness enjoins. 

The controlling principle of good manners, as we have 
already said, must be found in strict morality. The laws of 
social usage must yield, when there is conflict, to the law of 
right. Even hospitality loses its true charm when inviting 
the guest to unwise or dangerous self-indulgence. Yet good 
society counsels " moderation " in the use of stimulants, and 
so far from enjoining abstinence, rather discourages it. The 
host falsely imagines that hospitality requires him to offer 
"just one glass " or "just one glass more," as the case may be. 
The recipient of this often cruel kindness too frequently sup- 
poses that politeness demands an acceptance of the attention, 
no matter what may be the consequences. Strange that there 
should be no disapproval associated with the drinking freely 
of wine, and that the disgrace seems to consist only in not 
being able to do so without intoxication. When this point is 
reached, and not before, society feels the necessity of express- 
ing its displeasure. Even if, in the refusal of the proffered 

13 



194: 



MANNERS CONSISTENT WITH RELIGION. 



glass, there were a sacrifice of manners to religious conviction, 
the lesser principle should yield to the greater. This is, how- 
ever, not the case. There is no discourtesy in refusing wine, 
but there is rudeness as well as wrong in urging an unwilling 
guest. 

When will people learn that the great object of social 
gatherings is not the eating or drinking together, but the 
interchange of thought and fancy! Let the wine-cup be for- 
gotten and dainties remain untasted while we listen to one 
who has something to say and who knows how to say it. If 
the epicure and drunkard be the slaves of appetite, we, who 
are still free, will not forge our own chains, or strengthen 
theirs. 

We hear much concerning French manners and English 
manners, and especially the latter. English manners may be 
better for an Englishman, but do they not in an American 
suggest affectation? The manners of superior people every- 
where are really very much the same, differing only in un- 
important details. A gentleman is a gentleman in every land. 
In the respect with which women are treated, no nation excels 
the American, and the status of women determines the degree 
of civilization. All honor be to that spirit of chivalry which 
manifests its respect even for the humblest and least attractive. 
There is a crown of womanhood of which no woman can be 
deprived, save through her own fault. It is a birthright which 
once lost can never be regained. 

The courtesy, the little attentions offered to a lady, should 
not be refused in a spirit of independence, but accepted with 
recognition of the kindness. Why should she insist upon 
standing in a crowded car? Why should she refuse the prof- 
fered aid in alighting? Rather acceptance and thanks. We 
are all, men and women, better for the interchange of little 
attentions. 



YOU AND I. 



195 



Generally, good manners depend upon the breeding. No 
matter how much innate refinement a child may inherit from 
a civilized ancestry, he comes into the world with more or 
less of the savage, or of the " old Adam " in him. Accord- 
ing to Spencer, his egoism is greater than his altruism, through 
a wise provision of nature. Now the manners of those who 
.surround him are much more real to him than their precepts. 
He has weak powers of reasoning, but possesses the imitative- 
ness of the ape. If gentleness and courtesy are the rule in the 
family circle, he will insensibly acquire these qualities. If, on 
the contrary, he sees others rude and selfish, how can he 
understand the beauty of unselfishness? Thus he receives his 
breeding, and how much of his happiness or unhappiness 
depends thereon! It either makes of him an Ishmaelite, with 
his hand against every one, or a useful member of society, 
happy and beloved. The rude word, the angry tone, become 
at last a matter of such habit that even when moved by gentle 
emotion the ill-bred man knows not how to express himself 
fittingly. He finds rules of etiquette totally inadequate to 
counteract the effect of early influences and to change the boor 
into a gentleman. Such an one is much to be pitied, if he 
realize his deficiencies without being able to correct them. 

We sometimes hear the manners of the people of our east- 
ern and western, cities compared, to the disadvantage of the 
latter, but this is hardly just The faults of western society 
are those which are incident to the society of any new place, 
and they rapidly disappear with the lapse of time. Those 
who emigrate to a new country generally do so in the hope of 
making money. If they succeed, they become the prominent 
men of the little town, and in time the " old settlers " of the 
city. They are perhaps not men of education and refinement, 
yet they have what, under the circumstances, is more to the 
purpose in a new country, energy and practical ability. They 



IPfi MANNERS CONSISTENT WITH RELIGION. 

are too busy preparing the way for their descendants, to devote 
much time to culture and reading, or, indeed, to anything but 
the practical questions of the day. Yet they realize the value 
of education sufficiently to procure for their children its advan- 
tages, and the second and third generations have all the polish 
of the residents of the older cities. So long as a city is grow- 
ing rapidly, however, its society must be more or less hetero- 
geneous and the attempt to make social distinctions, difficult. 
It is said that in one of our western cities the aristocratic and 
plebeian inhabitants are distinguished as those who made their 
money before a certain great lire swept over the city, and those 
who made it afterwards. 

If, in such a new city as we have described, there did not 
arise an interest in something beyond the making and spending 
of money, there would be no hope for it. We must first labor 
for the sustenance of the body and the supply of its natural 
wants. With the leisure which comes with the accumulation 
of means, no longer exhausting their strength in the supply of 
daily individual needs, they can interest themselves in litera- 
ture and art, in science and discovery of truth, or devote them- 
selves to some ideal pursuit. Unless these higher interests 
are aroused in a new community where fortunes have been 
rapidly made, wealth will be wasted in luxury and vulgar 
ostentation. Western people have been accused of being 
" loud " and showy. There are such people everywhere, and 
they always move in a new civilization rather than in an old 
where is less freedom, and where the lines are more firmly 
drawn. This is, however, ceasing to be a characteristic of 
western society, in distinction from eastern, and the time may 
come when eastern people may have something to learn from 
their western neighbors as regards eloquent manners. The 
hospitality of the old time, the cordiality and warmth of heart, 



YOU AND I. 



197 



still remain as in former days, and something else has 
been added. 

The intercourse between all our cities and large towns is 
too regular and constant to allow any very marked differences 
of manners to last, yet there will always be " circles " and 
" sets " in which elegant manners degenerate into mannerisms. 
When social rules become inflexible and every violation meets 
with unkind criticism, then, indeed, Mrs. Grundy would do 
well to emigrate and widen her mental horizon. There is 
such a thing as an esthetic, literary society into which we enter 
with a feeling of suffocation, and leave with the thought, " if 
this be culture, a little less culture and more human nature. " 

It is said that trifles make up the sum of human life. Little 
kindnesses, thoughtful attentions, slight in themselves, contri- 
bute largely to the sum of human happiness. Nothing is great, 
nothing is small, to the eye of the philosopher. We may not 
be able to array ourselves in silks and velvets, but the adorn- 
ment of fine manners is within our reach, and that is worth 
striving for. We can more easily dispense with music, paint- 
ing or sculpture than with the harmony of beautiful action. 
Kind smiles, looks and words, are the largess of a noble nature 
which gives, nor asks for a return. 

In answer to the query whether manners are consistent with 
religion, we will say that religion without good manners is a 
contradiction. If love to one's fellow-man is an essential part 
of religion, shall we cherish the feeling, yet act as if the heart 
were full of indifference or hatred? There may be persons 
so unfortunately constituted that they continually belie them- 
selves, since a rough exterior may hide a gentle nature. Such 
as these are to be pitied, for they are always liable to be mis- 
understood, and such being the case, it is their special duty to 
cultivate the grace of fine manners. To associate these with 
the seductions of the world, is entirely wrong. Good breed- 



198 



MANNERS CONSISTENT WITH RELIGION 



ing is not the mask of a worldly nature. The selfish man of 
the world may wear the mask of courtesy, — it is but a mask, 
a disguise, which a keen observer may detect. There is no 
spontaneity in his actions ; he has learned his lesson by rote, 
not in the spirit but the letter. 

The world! What is the world? It is You and I, our 
friends and neighbors; and, like ourselves, it is made up of 
good and evil. Shall we flee from it ? Those who have done 
so have discovered that the Tempter pursued them into the 
wilderness. The evil of the world is that which is in my 
heart and yours. Banish it, and the world will be that much 
the better! When the kingdom of God comes, the "world 
will be the " communion of saints," and every Christian life 
brings that time nearer. Christ withdrew into solitude only 
to pray for renewed strength to " redeem the world from sin," 
and this must his followers do. When the " kingdom of God 
does come upon the earth, beautiful thoughts, elevated 
emotions, will find their fitting expression in action and speech. 
The inner life and its outward manifestation will be in har- 
mony. There will be no misunderstandings, but faltering 
lips shall grow eloquent, and words find their confirmation in 
deeds. If truth and goodness are divine, so also is beauty, 
and a religious life cannot afford to hide its light under the 
l< bushel " of repellant manners. 




REGARD FOR PUBLIC OPINION. 



BY 



REV. J. D. MOFFAT, D. D. 




HAT will people think? " With 
a large number of persons 
this is " the question of the 
hour" — and of every hour. 
They stand in awe of public 
opinion. They are careful to avoid 
doing or saying anything which their 
part of the world may disapprove; they 
are eager to do everything which the 
public they respect may be likely to expect of them. They 
dress, they walk, they talk, they hold their hands, they move 
their eyes, after the manner which the public may for the 
time approve, and for no other reason than that such actions 
and attitudes are considered by a certain set of persons as 
constituting good style, or "form," as it is now termed. Not 
long since many ladies belonging to this class were making 
most absurd attempts to imitate the graceful carriage attrib- 
uted to the Grecian lady, and walked about with a stiff 
motion, an unnatural inclination of body, and a dangling of 

199 



200 



YOU AND I. 



hands in front of them as if their wrists had been paralyzed, 
until the boys on the streets felt constrained to call attention 
to the " Grecian bend." No considerations of personal con- 
venience, decency or good taste would ever lead ladies to 
adopt such a mode of walking. In some mysterious way the 
fashion was started, and the impression was made that the 
fashionable world approved it, and straightway the people 
whose one great question is, "What will people think?" 
adopted it. And as soon, again, as it became evident that 
the people thought the fashion absurd, it disappeared. What 
tyranny public opinion exercises over all whose regard for it 
is allowed to become excessive ! How rapidly their fashions 
change, and from one extreme to its opposite! Says an Eng- 
lish essayist, U A wise nation, unsubdued by superstition, with 
the collected experience of peaceful ages, concludes that 
female feet are to be clothed by crushing them. The still 
wiser nations of the west have adopted a swifter mode of 
destroying health, and creating angularity, by crushing the 
upper part of the female body. In such matters nearly ail 
people conform. Our brother man is seldom so bitter against 
us as when we refuse to adopt at once his notions of the 
infinite. But even religious dissent were less dangerous and 
more respectable than dissent in dress. If you want to see 
what men will do in the way of conformity, take a European 
hat for your subject of meditation. I dare say there are 
twenty-two millions of people at this minute, each wearing one 
of these hats in order to please the rest." 

Nor is it in the matter of dress alone we see a regard for 
public opinion that must be denounced as excessive and hurt- 
ful. Men often advocate or oppose important measures out 
of regard to the wishes of others, and against their own con- 
victions, or the convictions they would reach if they could be 
persuaded to study the subject without regard to the opinions 



REGARD FOR PUBLIC OPINION. 



201 



•of others. There were whole ages during which the maxim, 
Vox fiopuli, vox Dei, — " The voice of the people is the voice 
of God," — held sway in political affairs. Men who con- 
demned as absurd the maxim, " The king can do no wrong," 
swallowed without an effort the equally false idea involved in 
the vox poftuli, vox Dei maxim, which identifies the voice or 
opinion of the public with that of the Creator as equally infal- 
lible. The maxim has been abandoned in modern politics — 
in a great measure at least. The voice of the people has so 
often proved to be the voice of the devil that the human race 
is fast losing confidence in it. Yet it still secures a degree of 
respect among those who so esteem the will of the majority 
as to condemn the minority for still advocating their convic- 
tions, as if they were less loyal or patriotic than they esteem 
themselves to be. But whilst no political leader would ven- 
ture to deify public opinion, how many of them exhibit, in cer- 
tain emergencies, the fear of it, which makes them silent when 
we most desire to hear them speak out. They are not sure 
whether the new measure which has forced itself before the 
public mind meets the approval of the majority of their party, 
or not, nor whether its advocacy might not cause the loss of 
more votes than would be gained. They must wait until these 
important questions are answered with a reasonable degree of 
probability, before they speak ; or, if compelled to speak, with 
what excessive caution do they frame every sentence so that 
they may swing to either side, according as time may show 
which is the more popular ! Perhaps we are wrong when we 
say the former days were better than these, and ask where 
are the Madisons and Jeffersons, the Websters and Clays of 
to-day ; but it does often seem as if our parties have no leaders, 
but only advocates, and our country no statesmen, but only 
partisans. We suffer because there is a regard for public 
opinion that is excessive. And then, too, in communities and 



202 



YOU AND I. 



social circles how many there are who accept and never seem 
to form their opinions, drift with the current, care more for 
public opinion than for self-respect, crave the flattery of public 
applause, prefer the approval of the crowd to that of con- 
science, are indifferent to the fact that they are bears in their 
own families, so long as they are esteemed models of gentle- 
ness and courtesy on the street or in other people's homes, 
who always do in Rome as the Romans do, whether that 
" Rome " be in its golden age or in its last stage of corruption, 
live a fawning, obsequious life for the sake of fame, and die 
satiated, if successful, crying at the last, " Vanity of vanities, 
all is vanity"; or, if unsuccessful, die broken-hearted, express- 
ing contempt for the idol so long worshipped. " It is," says 
Longfellow, " an indiscreet and troublesome ambition which 
cares so much about fame, about what the world says of us ; 
to be always looking in the face of others for approval; to be 
always anxious about the effect of what we do or say; to be 
always shouting to hear the echoes of our own voices." Such 
excessive regard for public opinion has not only ended in dis- 
appointment, but, in many cases, in bringing down upon those 
guilty of it the contempt and hatred of that very public. A 
dramatist makes one of his characters use these scornful words, 
toward one of this class: 

" While you, you think 
What others think, or what you think they'll say, 
Shaping your course by something scarce more tangible 
Than dreams, at best the shadows on the stream 
Of aspen trees by flickering breezes swayed — 
Load me with irons, drive me from morn till night, 
I am not the utter slave which that man is, 
Whose sole word, thought and deed are built on what 
The world may say of him." 

From this point of view it is evident that regard for public 
opinion may be excessive and a hindrance to true culture. 



REGARD FOR PUBLIC OPINION. 



203 



He who allows himself to be shaped entirely by his surround- 
ings, or who determines his actions and manners with 
supreme regard to the opinions of other people, necessarily 
suppresses those tendencies of his nature which, cultivated, 
would give him individuality, personal power. On the other 
hand, it is at least conceivable that one may attain to a per- 
fect degree of moral, intellectual and social culture, and yet 
at times be justified in defying public opinion. The great 
reformers began their career by antagonizing custom, the 
leaders of the world's history have often been in the outset the 
leaders of the minority. In such cases regard for public opin- 
ion would have brought great enterprises for the advancement 
of humanity to an abrupt end. 

But the opposite extreme is just as carefully to be avoided. 
There is no virtue in defying or disregarding the opinions of 
others. In any case of justifiable defiance, the virtue consists 
in the end sought, such as adherence to principle, the correc- 
tion of commonly received views, etc.; the defiance is simply 
an unavoidable accompaniment or result. To set at nought 
the opinions of others for the sake of exhibiting indifference to 
them, simply expresses one's indifference to his fellow-men 
and to the esteem in which they may hold him, and it merits 
a retributive indifference. Eccentricity is tolerated in men 
when it is seen to be an accompaniment of well-meant" efforts 
to do right; but justly held in contempt when regarded as an 
affectation of the singular. It lowers our estimation of 
Admiral Sir Charles Napier when we read of his riding all 
day through the streets of a foreign town, attired in a fantastic 
costume and followed by a crowd of boys, to win a wager 
from a tailor. Such indifference to opinion was a weakness, 
a harmless one, perhaps, for the whole action was trivial, yet 
one exhibiting a character that might break down on some 
more important occasion. It should not be overlooked that,. 



204 



YOU AND I. 



while regard for common opinion may cause one to continue 
in a course after he is convinced that it is a wrong course, 
disregard may open the way for the pursuit of a wicked 
course. The thought, " people will condemn and despise me," 
may be, in the case of a large proportion of men, the only bar- 
rier in the way of their following those lower passions which 
incite to a vicious life. It may even be said that the man who 
appears on the streets in slovenly dress, because he cares not 
what notice he attracts, is one step nearer the kingdom of 
darkness than he who does care what people think even of 
his dress. Many a man's untrammelled pursuit of the drunk- 
ard's career to the grave has been retarded for years by his 
fear of being seen to enter the common saloon; but when at 
last he could march boldly in, his most hopeful friends lost 
their hope because that last barrier had been broken down. 
We are forced to recognize the fact that, where men have 
gone down from respectable society to mingle with the 
drunken and the vile, regard for property, for character, for 
family, and for the immortal soul, have given way long before 
regard for public opinion. 

But regard for public opinion is not only a barrier against 
an evil life. It may become a most powerful incentive to 
right and useful living. The love of esteem is a mainspring 
of human conduct, both moral and immoral. Desire to stand 
well with our fellow men is a natural impulse and universally 
felt, except where it may have been crushed out by an unnat- 
ural mode of life. It is essential to the existence of social 
relations and institutions. Let eccentricity become universal 
and the social fabric is endangered. It is a most powerful 
and constantly active principle. 

Consider how powerful it is. Arthur Helps has not exag- 
gerated when, in writing of the fear of non-conformity, he 
says that it "has triumphed over all other fears; over love, 



REGARD FOR PUBLIC OPINION. 



205 



hate, pity, sloth, anger, truth, pride, comfort, self-interest,, 
vanity and maternal love." All classes of society have been 
dominated by it. So great a man as Lord Nelson chuckled 
over the fact that Mr. Pitt had attended him down stairs to 
his carriage. The winning of a naval victory could scarcely 
have afforded him more pleasure than this simple token of 
the high esteem with which the Prime Minister regarded 
him. At the opposite social extreme it might be difficult to 
find one so low and so utterly indifferent to the regard of 
others, as to feel no strange thrill of pleasure when skillfully 
complimented. In ancient times, poets, warriors, statesmen, 
were not only incited -by the love of applause to put forth their 
greatest exertions, but did not hesitate to avow their purpose 
to gain the good opinion of their countrymen. A striking 
change in this respect has taken place, and men who have 
gained eminence will scarcely allow themselves to imagine 
that they have ever been influenced in their actions by any 
desire to stand well in the eyes of the public. Horace, on the 
other hand, makes no concealment of his purpose to strike the 
stars with his lofty head, nor of the gratification he experienced 
when pointed out as one of the eminent men of the day. 
The sense of duty, the desire for property, and the thirst for 
knowledge are powerful incentives, it is true, but the love of 
esteem is often seen to be more powerful than any of them, 
since all of them are often sacrificed when a good opportunity 
of rapid advancement in popularity occurs. Dr. McCosh, in 
his work on " The Emotions," has given us an admirable 
sketch of the range and power of this feeling, both in its nor- 
mal and perverted state, a passage that may well be tran- 
scribed here. " There is a love of esteem, commendation, 
praise, glory, appearing also in early life, and capable of 
becoming a dominant passion. It is apt to associate itself 
with the motive last mentioned — the love of society, — and 



206 



YOU AND I. 



the young delight in a smile, an approving word, or a gift from 
those whom they love, or with whom they associate, from 
father, mother, teacher, and, sometimes stronger than any 
others, from companions. This principle, the desire to keep 
or retain the good opinion of others, often makes the tyranny 
exercised over boys by their companions, in workshop, in 
school, in college, more formidable than any wielded by the 
harshest master or rulers. As persons advance in life, it 
becomes a desire to stand well with the circle in which they 
move, their professional circle, or the gay circle, or the good 
moral circle, or the respectable circle, say their congregation, 
or the denomination of which they are members. The fear of 
losing the esteem, or incurring the censure of their social set 
or party, is sometimes a means of sustaining good resolutions, 
and of keeping people in a straight course ; quite as frequently 
it tempts to cowardice, as they have not the courage to do 
the right and oppose the evil, since it would make them 
unpopular. In the case of many the desire becomes a craving 
for reputation, a passion for fame, burning and flaming, and 
it may be consuming the soul. This often leads to great 
deeds in war and in peace, in the common arts and in the fine 
arts, in literature and in science. But being ill-regulated, or 
carried to excess, it is often soured into jealousy or envy, or 
issues in terrible disappointment. The passion may become 
so strong as to need no aid from the pleasure derived from it 
— nay, may lead the man to injure his health and incur suffer- 
ing, in order to secure posthumous fame of which he can never 
be conscious." Surely so powerful a motive for good or evil 
is not to be despised nor ignored. If it has lead men with so 
much power to do great deeds of courage, endurance and 
perseverance, it would not be wise to deny it a place among 
the motive forces which lie back of all forms of culture. If it 
be not allowed the supreme place, it should not be denied any 



REGARD FOR PUBLIC OPINION. 



207 



place. If it is not the highest motive for conduct, it may be 
one of the lower, which, kept in subordination, may add to 
the power without detracting from the character of the 
supreme motive. 

We are bound to consider, too, the increased influence for 
good resulting from a good reputation. Other things equal, 
the word of the most favorably known man outweighs the 
equally good or true word of one less favorably or extensively 
known. The common-place remarks of noted men attract 
attention, while the same remarks or better ones, uttered by 
men who have not yet attained distinction in popular esteem, 
fall flat upon the ear and prove ineffective. A story is told 
upon a gentleman of New York which illustrates this point. 
After earnest solicitation he accompanied his wife to hear 
Mr. Moody, listened with rapt attention to the sermon, and 
remarked on the way home that if their pastor could only 
preach like that he thought he could go to church every Sun- 
day. "Why," his wife replied, "the preacher you heard is 
our pastor, who took Mr. Moody's place to-day." Not having 
heard his wife's pastor very often, and failing to recognize 
him at the. distance he was seated from the platform, he lis- 
tened to him as he would have listened to Mr. Moody, whose 
praises he had read and heard sounded on every side. 

That a man's good reputation adds to his power for good 
scarcely needs proof or illustration. It is a fact of common 
experience and observation. We not only see men of inferior 
abilities accomplishing good work because of a good reputa- 
tion, but men of superior abilities shorn of power and living 
comparatively useless lives because of some stain, sometimes 
a slight one, upon their reputation. The civil law recognizes 
every man's right to as good a reputation as his character and 
conduct will bear; and every human being ought to recognize 
his duty to secure as good a reputation as lies in his power by 



208 



YOU AND I. 



the use of proper means. As we are morally bound to main- 
tain our health, to cultivate our powers and add to our knowl- 
edge that we may be thoroughly qualified for our work, so 
are we bound, and for the same reason, to maintain a good 
name. The teacher is under obligation to be popular with 
his pupils. If he fails in popularity, he is shorn of his power 
to incite them to diligence and interest in study; for the pop- 
ular teacher, with knowledge but little in advance of his pupils, 
can cause them to learn more rapidly than the splendid scholar 
whom the children hate. The statesman who would promote 
the general welfare, dare not despise popular favor, for the 
greater people's regard for him, the greater his influence over 
them. Even the preacher of the gospel, bearing a message 
from God to men, may not wisely feel indifferent to his per- 
sonal popularity. Though he is God's ambassador, yet he is 
expected to deliver his message in the most effective manner; 
he is charged, as far as lies in his power, to bring about recon- 
ciliation; he is to regard himself as the servant of the church 
as well as of Christ, and to labor to please them as well as Him. 
Paul would be "all things to all men," do anything to avoid 
offending them, do anything to please them, not inconsistent 
with his pleasing his Lord, that he might "save some." 

It may not be easy to lay down a principle, or prescribe a 
set of rules, by which it may be determined when we may 
disregard public opinion, and when we should regard it. Per- 
haps it is enough to say that in matters involving right and 
wrong no regard for the opinion of others should ever cause 
us to swerve a hair's breadth from what we believe to be right ; 
while due weight should be allowed to public opinion when it 
would join other considerations in deterring us from wrong, or 
urging us on in duty. In matters involving only expediency 
or propriety, a more important place should be given to public 
opinion. There may be cases in which we should be guided 



REGARD FOR PUBLIC OPINION. 



209 



wholly by custom, and there may be other cases in which 
quite as much, or more, weight should be attached to the 
demands of personal convenience, comfort or taste. Even 
within the realm of the merely expedient, there are limits to 
popular demands, and personal liberty has a claim to be 
regarded. It is not to be forgotten that public opinion is only 
the aggregate of private opinions, and that each one, therefore, 
has something to do with the determining of the character of 
the opinion of his community. This gives to each person the 
right, it places each person under the obligation, of endeavor- 
ing, in some measure, to shape the common opinion according 
to his own ideas of fitness. If there be no attempt to exercise 
personal liberty, public opinion can not be improved, but must 
from age to age remain as unchangeable as Chinese customs. 
The fact, too, can not be ignored that public opinion is often 
unreasonable and tyrannical in its demands, condemning what 
it should at least tolerate, and tolerating what it ought to 
regard as an alternative which may with propriety be chosen. 
We must sometimes criticise and antagonize the public — 
only let us be sure we have some reason for it, other than the 
desire to defy or to be eccentric. 

Perhaps the proper course to be pursued may be best sug- 
gested by considering some common demands made on the 
individual by public opinion. 

In dress we may conform so closely to the common standard 

as to escape remark, commendatory or otherwise. If we 

depart from this standard for the purpose of making an 

" impression," the public, or our circle, may properly describe 

the " impression " made, whether it be the impression we 

sought to make, or its opposite ; and we can not complain if it 

be the latter. If the public show a disposition to modify the 

common standard, by following a fashion in conflict with our 

taste or notions of convenience, we have the right to protest, 
14 



210 



YOU AND 1. 



we ought to protest ; but our protest need not be a permanent 
one. Sometimes these protests are successful. If they are 
not, then, often, the " ugly " fashion in time ceases to seem 
" ugly " because so generally adopted by people of good taste, 
and people on whom nothing ever seems " ugly " — why should 
we longer protest ? Our holding out will not effect a change, 
and our appearance in the old fashion may cause more dis- 
pleasure in others than their new fashions cause in us. If, 
however, the public demand the adoption of a fashion injurious 
to health, or indecent, its opinion should be boldly disregarded. 

There is also a common standard for manners, our behavior 
in the presence of others, compliance with which does not 
ordinarily require any sacrifice of principle, nor any disregard 
of our personal comfort or convenience, that we ought not to 
make willingly for the pleasure of others. For the principle 
in us which leads to the best manners is the desire to please 
others; and, as Emerson puts it, "A beautiful behaviour is 
better than a beautiful form ; it gives a higher pleasure than 
statues and pictures; it is the finest of the fine arts." Nor can 
any better rule for cultivating good manners be laid down than 
this: — In your speech or silence, in your movements and pos- 
ture, in your demands on others, or your response to other's 
demands, be sure that you are governed by a sincere, unselfish 
regard for the feelings and welfare of others. True kindness 
of heart and sympathy are the foundations of true politeness. 
This is doubtless what Sydney Smith meant by saying that 
" manners are the shadows of virtues." It is not true, indeed, 
as some say, that " manners make the man," but it is true that 
manners mark the man; they are modes of exhibiting our 
regard for others — except when assumed as a cover for 
hypocrisy. 

As good manners spring from regard for others, bad man- 
ners spring either from disregard, or from inordinate self- 



REGARD FOR PUBLIC OPINION. 



211 



consciousness — constant thought about one's self as if he were 
the most important member of the circle. Both the nature of 
good behaviour and the best mode of acquiring it are illus- 
trated by what Archbishop Whately has described concerning 
his own experience. 

When at college, his dress, a white, rough coat and a white 
hat, and his awkward manner, caused him to be known as 
" The White Bear." He tried to improve his manners by an 
attempt to imitate accepted models, but failed; such a mode 
only serving to increase his shyness and self-consciousness, 
from which his awkwardness resulted. At last he said to 
himself, " I have tried my very utmost, and find that I must 
be as awkward as a bear all my life, in spite of it. I will 
endeavor to think as little about it as a bear, and make up my 
mind to endure what can't be cured." As soon as he aban- 
doned the effort to improve his manners by imitation, and 
began to carry out the impulses of his noble nature, he began 
to lose his awkwardness and to take on the posture and move- 
ments of the gentleman. "I succeeded," he says, "beyond 
my expectations ; for I not only got rid of the personal suffer- 
ing of shyness, but also of most of those faults of manner 
which consciousness produces; and acquired at once an easy 
and natural manner — careless, indeed, in the extreme, from 
its originating in a stern defiance of opinion, which I had con- 
vinced myself must be ever against me; but unconscious, and 
therefore giving expression to that good will towards men 
which I really feel; and these, I believe, are the main points." 
Here, it may be observed, good manner came not from regard 
for public opinion, but from regard for the public itself, yet it 
was the former that led to the effort to throw off an awkward 
manner — an effort that succeeded only when regard for other 
people was given its rightful place of superiority to regard for 
and thought about self. It is not only a law of good manners, 



212 



YOU AND I. 



but of good morals as well, that, when we are in the company 
of others, we should seek to please them, whether by making 
an effort to converse agreeably or to listen with interest; to 
avoid unpleasant subjects and the arousing of unpleasant feel- 
ings, or, positively, to produce as much happiness as possible. 

In addition to our dress and manners, public opinion takes 
notice of our attitude towards atl movements in which the 
■public feels special interest', and pronounces us public-spirited, 
good citizens, benevolent, useful members of society, patriotic, 
or denies our right to such desirable titles, according to our 
treatment of public movements. Here, again, it is to be noted 
that the underlying principles in conflict are selfishness and 
interest in others, and that morality is clearly on the side of 
the latter. 

Whoever lives in society — and only a hermit can live out 
of it — derives benefits from society which create the obliga- 
tion that he should be a giver as well as a receiver. The 
public has a right to demand of us the performance of political 
duty, that we act with one party or another according to our 
conscientious convictions after unbiased investigation. The 
public has no right to demand that we continue to act with 
the party with which we have been acting in the past, nor 
that we should follow or approve all the measures taken by 
our party. Every one ought therefore to be permitted to 
change his party affiliations, when the change is honestly 
made, without being cursed by the one party, and received 
with coolness by the other. When public opinion demands 
patriotism, it should be regarded; when it demands partisan- 
ship, it should be defied. 

A similar position may be taken with respect to our attitude 
towards the voluntary movements of society. To be regarded, 
as public-spirited, useful members of society, or benevolent, is: 
a laudable ambition. In proportion as one's intellectual and 



REGARD FOR PUBLIC OPINION. 



213 



moral nature is cultivated, his power and wisdom and tact in 
aiding and directing and organizing movements for the public 
good are increased; his services are needed, and should be 
cheerfully given, because he may do a work no other is so 
well fitted to do. And, on the other hand, if intellectual and 
moral culture are aimed at, there is no better way known to 
man to promote that culture than by a practice of his powers 
and a use of his knowledge in the affairs of real life. No man 
is made strong in his library, any more than physical strength 
is developed at the table; no man is made morally strong or 
holy by life in a monastery. " I pray not that thou shouldest 
take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep 
them from the evil." The world has little need of people 
who selfishly cultivate their intellectual and moral nature, 
refusing to use their superior powers for the benefit of others 
— nor cares how soon they may be taken out of it. 




HOME ATTRACTIONS AND AMUSE- 



MENTS. 



BY 



REV. JAMES H. POTTS, D. D. 

If those who are the enemies of innocent amusement had the direction 
of the world, they would take away spring and youth, — the former from 
the year, the latter from human life. — Balzac. 




HERE should be 
a home for everybody, a home 
where the dearest treasures of life 
can be gathered, the purest pleasures 
enjoyed, the richest comforts and conveniences pre- 
ppy served, and where God can smile benignly upon 
^ adoring hearts and give prosperity and faithfulness, 
peace and gladness. 

" Who has not felt how sadly sweet 

The dream of home, the dream of home, 
Steals o'er the heart too soon to fleet, 

When far o'er land or sea we roam ? 
Sunlight more soft may o'er us fall, 

To greener shores our bark may come; 
But far more bright, more dear than all, 

That dream of home, that dream of home. 
214 



YOU AND I. 



215 



The dream of home is universal. Those who have no 
home, dream of having one sometime, and those who have 
only poor ones, perpetually dream of better. The heart 
wants a home. People who hang about hotels and boarding- 
houses, living nomadic lives, tucked up in trunks and band- 
boxes, are not satisfied, or, if they are, it is generally a proof 
that they are peculiarly fond of idleness and flirtation. 

Home should be attractive. It should be the center around 
which the hidden life keeps turning. The dear word ought 
to be indelibly written on the heart. So sweet, so felicitous, 




HOME ENTERTAINMENT. 



so charming, ought all its relations, associations and memories 
to be, that the heart can never leave it, or leaving, never cease 
pining to return. 

The best home attraction to begin with is an agreeable 
wedded companion. Pity the man or woman who is tied up 
to an uncongenial mate. Such a person never will have a 



216 



HOME ATTRACTIONS AND AMUSEMENTS. 



home. He or she may own a dwelling, well finished and well 
furnished, but it will not be home. Home is where the heart 
is. Where love is not, the heart is not. Where there is no 
respect, there can be no love. Without loving inmates, no 
house is a home. 

Nearly as unfortunate is a married pair, however loving, 
either of whom is incompetent to manage a home. And, as 
the affairs of our American homes are generally committed 
to the wife, we are, of course, prepared to commiserate that 
husband whose wife is a general know-nothing, a fuss-feather, 
a slattern, or a money-scatterer. Love for such a woman 
will die out as sure as the fates. Then, if home is not hell, it 
is, at least, the antechamber, and no number of attractions can 
counter-balance the effect of this vital evil. An intelligent, 
loving, devoted wife, beautiful in graces of character, charm- 
ing in domestic ways, reigning a queen in the realm of home, 
swaying by purest love the hearts that are knitted to hers — 
such a wife will make a home anywhere, — in the desert, in 
the wilderness, or in the thick and din of city life. The heart 
of the husband doth safely trust in her. She holds him by 
the silken cords of love wherever he goes. Like Tom 
Moore, in his wanderings, he is compelled to sing: 

"Her last words at parting, how can I forget? 

Deep treasured through life, in my heart they shall stay; 
Like music, whose charm in the soul lingers yet, 

When the sounds from the ear have long melted away. 
Let Fortune assail me, her threat'nings are vain ; 

Those still-breathing words shall my talisman be — 
" Remember, in absence, in sorrow, and pain, 

There's one heart, unchanging, that beats but for thee." 

From the desert's sweet well though the pilgrim must hie, 
Never more of that fresh-springing fountain to taste, 

He hath still of its bright drops a treasured supply, 

Whose sweetness lends life to his lips through the waste. 



YOU AND I. 



217 



So, dark as my fate is still doomed to remain, 

These words shall my well in the wilderness be — 

" Remember, in absence, in sorrow, and pain, 

There's one heart, unchanging, that beats but for thee." 

Beautiful and dutiful children are another home charm. 
Noble-minded parents find in their children an attraction 




superior to anything 
else in this world. 
What a joy to the 
mother is a splendid 
baby boy ! What a delight to the father is a spirited baby 
girl ! And what a source of comfort to both are the confid- 



218 HOME ATTRACTIONS AND AMUSEMENTS. 

ing and innocent little prattlers, learning wisdom every day 
and taking on their own individuality as the years of wedded 
life roll on ! Many a father has been saved from temptation 
by the thought of his innocent child. Many a mother has 
been spurred to nobler womanhood by the sense of responsi- 
bility which motherhood brings. He is a base man, she a 
worthless woman, in whose hearts have not been kindled 
warmer, truer, sweeter, and purer sentiments, by the presence 
of those blessed little ministers which ought everywhere to 
be the fruit and crown of domestic life. 

And surely, to make home a happy place for the children, 
should be the study of all parents. There are moments in 
child life when a single word of cheer, a look of approval, a 
simple song, may make an impression that will last forever. 
In the very zenith of his fame, Dr. J. G. Holland confessed a 
charm upon his soul from the recollection of his boyhood felic- 
ities. He said: "The pleasant converse of the fireside, the 
simple songs of home, the words of encouragement as I bend 
over my school tasks, the kiss as I lie down to rest, the patient 
bearing with the freaks of my restless nature, the gentle coun- 
sels mingled with reproofs and approvals, the sympathy that 
meets and assuages every sorrow and sweetens every little 
success, all these return to me amid the responsibilities which 
press upon me now, and I feel as if I had once lived in heaven 
and, straying, had lost my way." Yet Dr. Holland here 
specifies nothing beyond what should characterize the language 
and bearing of every parent toward the child, yea, of all 
inmates of the home toward one another. Wear a bright 
face at home. If you must frown anywhere, frown in your 
office when nobody is in. Let your children see the sunshine 
play on your countenance. Make them gleeful and jubilant. 
By promoting their jocularity, you help your own. Rev. 
Philip Henry, eminent for piety and good sense, used to say 



YOU AND I. 



21£ 



to his children: "Please God and please yourselves, and you 
shall never displease me." Why was not that a sensible view? 
A lively, active, mirthful home life is generally a healthful life. 
" Laugh and grow fat, 71 is the trite expression of popular belief 
in the connection betwixt cheerfulness and good digestion. 
Don't get blue, or if you do, charm it away with a merry 
heart, Seek cheerful and happy company. Three or four 
jolly old friends, together, can eat a hearty meal, crack their 
jokes, laugh for an hour, and enjoy perfect digestion; while 
the morose, business-pushing man bolts his food in silence, 
even in the presence of his family, and rushes to his desk to 
writhe in dyspeptic pains and grow haggard and lean as his 
uncomfortable existence wears on. Of what use is such a life ? 
He who lives it does not enjoy it, and they who witness it disap- 
prove of it. Dr. Greene, in his " Problem of Health," says that 
there is not the remotest corner or little inlet of the minutest 
blood-vessel of the human body that does not feel some wave- 
let from the convulsion occasioned by good, hearty laughter. 
The life principle, or the central man, is shaken to the inner- 
most depths, sending new tides of life and strength to the sur- 
face, thus materially tending to insure good health to the 
persons who indulge therein. The blood moves more rapidly, 
and conveys a different impression to all the organs of the 
body, as it visits them on that particular mystic journey when 
the man is laughing, from what it does at other times. For 
this reason, every good, hearty laugh in which a person 
indulges, tends to lengthen his life, conveying, as it does, a 
new and distinct stimulus to the vital force. Doubtless, the 
time will come when physicians, conceding more importance 
than they now do to the influence of the mind upon the vital 
forces of the body, will make their prescriptions more with 
reference to the mind, and less to drugs for the body, and will, 



220 



HOME ATTRACTIONS AND AMUSEMENTS. 



in so doing, find the most effective method of producing the 
most required effects upon the patient. 

Nothing is too good for the home, whereas some people 
seem to imagine nothing is too poor. They eat and wear 
what they can not sell, and buy only that which can be had 
for nothing, or next to nothing, no matter how illy adapted to 
their wants. We speak not now of the dependent classes. 
Poverty compels many families to live as they can, not as they 
would. Some even require our charities, not our critcism. 
Only pity have we for those who are destitute in spite of 
themselves, especially when they are clean and cheerful, as all 
may be. Contempt on the unclean slattern or sloven, whether 
man, woman or child. The homes of such are well described 
in the following pen picture: 

A slovenly dress, a shabby pate, 

The fence is down, a broken gate; 

Pigs in the garden, weeds very high, 

Children unwashed, no meat to fry; 

Lots of great dogs and yawning old cats, 

Windows repaired with a dozen old hats; 

An empty barn, not a spear of hay, 

Cows in the clover, horse run away, 

Things sold by guess, without being weighed; 

Bills coming in, taxes unpaid. 

Pipes and tobacco, whiskey, neglect, 

Drag in their train as all might expect, 

All sorts of trouble to fret away life, 

But worst of all, an unhappy wife. 

Poverty is not necessarily a bar to home attractions. These 
attractions are of various grades, each grade suited to homes 
of its kind. Some log houses in the wilderness have more and 
better attractions for their inmates than many mansions in 
metropolitan cities have for theirs. There are home charms 
which can not be purchased with money, nor torn away by 



YOU AND I. 



221 



penury. Graces of the heart, adornments of the character, 
virtues of the life, are priceless gems as often found in humble 
cottages as in princely palaces. So there are devices of art, 
whether the art be rude or refined, a thousand times more 
attractive to those who construct them, and perhaps to the 
guests who observe and use them, than the rarest ornaments 
and furnishings which fabulous wealth from the richest markets 
can command. A rustic swing or couch or table or chair;, 
a home-made doll or dress or sled or rocking-horse, may 
serve its purpose better in the home of the poor than the fancy 
furniture, glittering toys and antique ornaments, in the 
homes of the rich. A devoted parent, ordinarily gifted with 
inventive genius, can supply home with incidental attractions,, 
no matter how light the purse. Many of the novelties con- 
structed in the home work-shop by the father for his children, 
or by an elder brother for the family group, become priceless 
treasures as mementoes when childhood days are numbered. 
It is the bane of modern domestic life that all our ideas of 
attraction and beauty concentrate in one word, cost. Every- 
thing is elegant that costs much. " Give me money," says the 
wife, " and I will give existence to your ideal home. Place 
the means in my hand, and your house shall not annoy your 
taste, nor waste your time." "But," as Emerson says, "that 
is a very inglorious solution to the problem, and therefore no 
solution. Give us wealth. You ask too much. Few have 
wealth; but all must have a home. Men are not born rich; 
and in getting wealth, the man is generally sacrificed, and 
often is sacrificed without acquiring wealth at last. 

* It is better to say, ' Give us your labor, and 
the household begins. ' A house should bear witness, in all its 
economy, that human culture is the end to which it is built and 
garnished. It stands there under the sun and moon, to ends 
analogous and not less noble than theirs. It is not for festivity, 



992 HOME A TTRACTIONS AND AMUSEMENTS. 

it is not for sleep: but the pine and oak shall gladly descend 
from the mountains, to uphold the roof of men as faithful 
and necessary as themselves; to be the shelter, always open 
to good and true persons; a hall which shines with sincerity, 
brows ever tranquil, and a demeanor impossible to discon- 
cert; whose inmates know what they want; who do not ask 
your house how theirs shall be kept. They have their aims; 
they can not pause for trifles. The diet of the house does not 
create its order, but knowledge, character, action, absorb so 
much of life and yield so much entertainment that the refec- 
tory has ceased to be so curiously studied. * * * * 
Honor to the house where they are simple to the verge of 
hardship, so that there the intellect is awake and reads the 
laws of the universe, the soul worships truth and love, honor 
and courtesy flow into all its deeds." Make the attractions of 
your home such as will attract and not repel. Buy or make 
such furniture as will bear usage. So arrange the articles in 
your rooms that guests will feel at home in spite of themselves. 
" The ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it. 
There is no event greater in the life than the appearance of 
new persons about our hearth, except it be the progress of 
the character which draws them. The great man is he who 
can call together the most select company when it pleases 
him."" Provide sensible attractions for your house. Consider 
your circumstances. Go not beyond your means. Stop not 
short of your real ability. Remember that " whatever brings 
the dweller into a finer life, whatever educates his eye or ear 
or hand, whatever purifies and enlays him, may well find place 
in the home. And yet, let him not think that a property in 
beautiful objects is necessary to his apprehension of them, and 
seek to turn his house into a museum. Rather let the noble 
practice of the Greeks find place in our society, and let all the 
creations of the plastic arts be collected with care in galleries, 



you AND I. 



223 



by the piety and taste of the people, and yielded as freely as 
the sunlight to all. Meantime, be it remembered, we are 
artists ourselves, and competitors, each one, with Phidias and 
Raphael in the production of what is graceful or grand. The 
fountain of beauty is the heart, and every generous thought 
illustrates the walls of your chamber. Why should we owe 
our powers of attracting our friends to pictures and vases, to 
cameos and architecture? Why should we convert ourselves 
into showmen and appendages to our fine houses and our 
works of art? If by love and nobleness we take up into our- 
selves the beauty we admire, we shall spend it again on all 
around us. The man, the woman, needs not the embellish- 
ment of canvas and marble, whose every act is a subject for 
the sculptor, and to whose eyes the gods and nymphs never 
appear ancient; for they know by heart the whole instinct 
of majesty." 

Yet we would not undervalue the fine instruction and not 
inconsiderable satisfaction which statues, pictures and other 
ornaments give. Obtain them if you can. Hang them upon 
the walls. Set them in the niches. Strew them upon the 
mantels. Cover the tables with them. Many guests will 
count your house a paradise if allowed free access to number- 
less curiosities. Above all things, make a careful selection of 
books. Get those best suited to your time and taste for read- 
ing. Use them yourself. Master their contents. Be able, if 
need be, to call attention to the most salient points, and to 
explain, when asked, difficult passages. Have " light reading " 
that is pure and wholesome, and solid reading that is bright and 
helpful. Don't be afraid of buying too many books; your 
only danger is in making a poor selection. Pure books of any 
degree of interest are better than none at all. 

If you live on a farm and distant from literary markets, lay 
by in store your books for entertainment during the long 



224 



HOME ATTRACTIONS AND AMUSEMENTS. 



winter evenings. Farmers are always provident enough in 
respect to their bodies. They fill their granaries and cellars 
with produce and provisions. But it is to be feared that many 

^-^Gfe of them are not 




the summer days may have some excuse for not undertaking 
severe intellectual work during the winter, but there are other 



YOU AND 1. 



225 



members of the family who may engage in such exercise. 
But even the hard-working farmers who have no time to 
devote to books or papers during the greater part of the year, 
must feel the need of replenishing their stock of ideas, and 
getting even with the world in some manner on the lines of 
its intellectual advancement. A few sound and useful books 
may be read during the winter, if nothing more — history, 
biography, travel, or some popular treatise on a branch of 
natural history. Much may be gained in every way, and 
many delightful hours passed, by having some member of the 
family circle read aloud. All may enjoy a good book then by 
only taking the trouble to listen. Such reading always furn- 
ishes fruitful topics for conversation, and stimulates thought 
and research. It requires no great effort to take up some 
subject, like that of the United States history for example, and 
devote an hour or more to it every evening all winter, in read- 
ings and discussions. Or some subject directly connected 
with farm work and agriculture may be taken up and studied 
and talked over. The history and origin of plants, the simpler 
principles of botany, zoology, geology and natural philosophy 
are among" the topics to be suggested. Life on the farm 
would loose half the monotony and dulness of which many, 
and especially young people, complain, if there were a more 
general understanding of the wonderful processes of nature, 
and the history of common things that are continually under 
observation. The hard, wearying toil of the farm need not 
necessarily rob any man of all the pleasures of superior knowl- 
edge. It is always best to have something good and useful to 
think about while the hands are employed. More study and 
reading of good books on the farm would, after a while, drive 
out the pestilent gossip and petty backbiting, the bane of so 
many country neighborhoods," 

15 



226 



HOME ATTRACTIONS AND AMUSEMENTS. 



Give attention also to music, provided there is any music in 
you. " Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast," only 
when it is good. Poor music would not soothe the tamest 
man. Cultivate your musical talent for all it is worth, and if 
it does not prove to be worth much, don't try to make much 
of it. What a mistake it is to spend money for pianos, 
organs, and such like, when neither husband, wife, parent, 
child, friend nor lover can ever hope to play a tune acceptably, 
and when the money is urgently needed for practical uses. 
Such musical instruments are not attractive. They are monu- 
ments to the folly of their owners, and would better be dis- 
placed by something promotive of comfort and cheer. 

Look to the immediate out-door surroundings of your 
home. Plant the best fruit trees. Trim the shade trees 
artistically. Root out the briers. Cut down the weeds. 
Cultivate pleasant lawns. Keep the grass trimmed. If you 
must enclose your house with a fence, keep it beautiful; keep 
it well painted. Construct play-houses somewhere for the 
little girls. Make room for the boys to run and jump and 
turn somersaults. Set a pattern to them. If too old and 
stiff or lazy to do this, pause a moment, at least, and witness 
their efforts. See that they have no occasion to lament the 
paucity of sports and pastimes under and around the old home 
roof. 

Count de Lesseps, the great canal maker, at the age of 
eighty, was a wonderful example of paternal zest and hilarity. 
With his family of twelve children, he would roam in the 
park, entertaining the oldest as well as the youngest with 
delightful conversation, pastime and buoyant exercise. A 
traveler says of him: " It is a fine sight to see him in the park 
with his family. When the children are drawn up in line, you 
notice that their sizes are mathematically graduated. Their 
father intends that, if possible, they shall live to as good and 



YOU AND I. 



227 



vigorous an old age as he enjoys. He inures them to hardship. 
In summer time he makes them run barefooted, bareheaded, 
barelegged, and, in fact, as nearly naked as the usages of civil- 
ization allow. And, at his country home, he has fenced in a 
play ground for them in which they spend an hour or two daily, 
in the original garb of Adam and Eve. As a result, their 
skins are as tough and healthy as that of an Indian. They 
never catch cold. They are never sick. In these respects, 
they differ much from most French children, who, as a rule, 
are what the English call ' coddled ' too much." The example 
of De Lesseps may not be, in all respects, suitable for us to 
follow, but the spirit of it is just the thing. 

Go in for lively times with your children. Praise them 
when they succeed well at their tasks. Pet them. Win their 
confidence and love. Interest yourself in what interests them 
— rabbits, pigeons, dogs, innocent games. Then try to 
interest them in higher things. Get them to help you in home 
decorations, office duties and routine work. Show them, in 
the most agreeable way, how you earn your living and their 
living too. Don't try to make old folks of young children, but 
do endeavor to prepare them for noble manhood or woman- 
hood. Talk with them much. Talk sensibly. Answer their 
questions. Have them answer yours. Draw them out. Make 
them wise, as soon as they need such wisdom, at every vital 
point of life. Don't leave them to gain knowledge from 
vicious associates. Keep them at home evenings. Amuse 
them, or let them amuse themselves. Never mind if they do 
scatter things — books, pictures, toys and garments. Don't 
chide them too much for making a noise. Let the boys 
whistle. Let the girls laugh and sing. There are times when 
it is almost cruel to repress the bounding impulses of childhood 
and youth. There are times when it is dangerous to do so. 
" We would stand aghast," says one writer, " if we could have 



228 



HOME ATTRACTIONS AND AMUSEMENTS. 



a vision of the young men gone to utter destruction, for the 
very reason that having cold, disagreeable, dull, stiff firesides 
at home, they sought amusement elsewhere." 

In his city ballad, " The Boy Convict's Story," the poet, 
Will Carleton, graphically portrays a graceless youth, in the 
hands of a sheriff, on his way to prison. The boy begs leave 
to occupy a seat in the end of the car because he feels " sensi- 
tive-like among strangers," and he is there permitted to 
unbosom himself to the official. He speaks of his former good 
prospects, his acquaintance with the Bible, his father's house, 
his free access to the pantry, his tidy bed-room, his decent 
apparel, and all that, but goes on to picture his home as a 
dreary place, cold and dark and utterly destitute of innocent 
attractions for a boyish heart. Then, as if in answer to the 
sheriff's questions, he goes on to say: 

"And hadn't I a father and mother? O, yes! just as good 
as they make. 

Too good, I have often suspected (though may be that last's 
a mistake). 

But they'd travelled so long and so steady the way to Per- 
fection's abode, 

They hadn't any feelings for fellows who could hot, as yet, 
find the road; 

And so, till some far advanced mile-post on goodness's pike I 
could win, 

They thought of me, not as their own child, but as one of the 
children of sin. 

And hadn't I brothers and sisters ? Oh, yes! till they somewhat 
had grown; 

Then, shivering, they went off and left me to stand the cold 
weather alone. 

For I had the luck to be youngest — the last on the family page, 
The one to prop up the old roof-tree — the staff of my 

parent's old age; 
Who well understood all the uses to which a mere staff is applied; 
They used me whenever convenient — then carelessly threw me aside! 



YOU AND I. 

And hadn't I any associates? Oh, yes ! I had friends more 
or less, 

But seldom I asked them to visit our house with the 

slightest success; 
Whenever the project was mentioned, they'd somehow look 

blue-like and chill, 
And mention another engagement they felt it their duty to fill ; 
For — now I am only a convict, there's no harm in telling the 

truth — 

My home was a fearful wet blanket to blood that was seasoned 
with youth. 

Not one blessed thing that was cheerful; no festivals, frolics 
or games ; 

No novels of any description — 'twas wicked to mention their 
names! 

My story-books suddenly vanished, my checker-boards never 
would keep, 

No newspaper came through our doorway, unless it was first put 
to sleep! 

And as for love — well, that old song, sir, is very melodious 
and fine, 

With ' No place like home ' in the chorus — I hope there aint 
many like mine! 

And so, soon my body got hating a place which my soul couldn't 
abide, 

And pleasure was all the time smiling and motioning me to 
her side; 

And when I start out on a journey, I'm likely to go it by leaps, 
For good or for bad, I'm no half-way — I'm one or the other 
for keeps. 

My wild oats flew thicker and faster — I reaped the same crop 
that I sowed, 

And now I am going to market — I'm taking it over the road! 

Yes, it grieved my good father and mother to see me go sadly 
astray, 

They deeply regretted my downfall — in a strictly respectable way; 



HOME ATTRACTIONS AND AMUSEMENTS. 

They gave me some more admonition, and sent me off full of 
advice, 

And wondered to see such a villain from parents so good and 
precise. 

Indeed, I have often conjectured, when full of neglect and its 
smarts, 

I must have been left on the door-step of their uncongenial hearts! 

My home in the prison is waiting — it opens up clear to my sight; 
Hard work and no pay-day a-coming, a close cell to sleep in at 
night. 

And then I must lie sad and lonesome, with more tribulation 
than rest, 

And wake in the morning with sorrow sharp sticking like steel in 
my breast ; 

But may be the strain and the trouble won't quite so much o'er 
me prevail, 

As 'twould be to some one who wasn't brought up in a kind of a jail. 

You've got a good home, Mr. Sheriff, with everything cosy and nice, 
And 'tisn't for a wrist-shackled convict to offer you words of 

advice; 

But this I must say, of all places your children may visit or call, 
Make home the most pleasant and happy — the sweetest and best 
of them all; 

For the Devil won't offer a dollar to have his world-chances 
improved, 

When Home is turned into a side-show, with half the attractions 

removed ! 

Don't think I'm too bitter, good Sheriff — I like you: you've been 
very good ; 

I'm ever and ever so grateful — would pay it all back if I could. 
I didn't mean to slander my parents — I've nothing against their 
good name, 

And as for my unrighteous actions, it's mostly myself that's to 
blame; 

Still, if Fd had a home — But the prison is only one station ahead — ■ 
I'm done, Mr. Sheriff ; forget me, but don't forget what I have 
said !" 



YOU AND I. 



231 



To this it may be objected that the picture is overdrawn ; 
that the real danger in our domestic life, as a people, lies not 
in too rigid asceticism, but in too indulgent liberalism. The 
immense circulation which children's story papers, for instance, 
have attained within six or eight years, is proof that few 
homes are barred against this sort of literature, and, as for 
" newspapers, festivals, frolics, and games," there is almost no 
end to them. In this respect, society has undergone a great 
change of sentiment within thirty or forty years. The 
recreations and pastimes which once were denounced, are now 
welcomed and courted. At the same time, the diversions of 
the last generation have passed out of date. With the intro- 
duction of croquet, lawn tennis, and other such plays, the old- 
fashioned spelling school, husking bee, "raisings," paring bees, 
and hard-cider, shag-bark-hickory-nut parties took their exit 
Occasionally we hear a sigh for their return, as Mr. Yates, in 
his Pioneer Ballad, makes the "old man" sing: 

" Though I am old, dear Nancy, I'd like once more to see, 
And join in the noisy frolic of the merry huskin' bee. 
I got the ' red ear' often, from many a pretty girl, 
Because I slyly stole a kiss, or pulled an auburn curl. 

Then came the apple paring round hearthstones warm and bright, 
Where, with our songs and stories, we lingered half the night; 
The lassies, with long parin's and cheeks as red as flame, 
Would toss them o'er their shoulders, to spell their lover's name. 

Ah! Those were days of happiness, as well as days of toil. 
At eve we drove our cares away, by day we tilled the soil: 
The innocent amusements of fifty years ago, 
Gave girls and boys the sparklin' eye, and set their cheeks aglow." 

In this country, there is a tendency toward extremes in 
everything, and some think we are going too far in the 
matter of amusements. The national game of base-ball, for 



232 



HOME ATTRACTIOXS AXD A M USEMEXTS. 



instance, is becoming little else than a national nuisance, asso- 
ciated, as it is. with expensive training and travel, violent 
exertions and accidents, betting, gambling, drinking and other 
unseemly things. Equally objectionable, on account of their 
surroundings and associations as well as their practical influ- 
ences, are the public dance, theatres, regattas, shooting tour- 
naments, and other similar sports. Even the splendid exercise 
of walking has been abused for mercenary purposes, and the 
Christian duty of fasting has been turned into disgusting exhi- 
bitions for selfish and sordid ends. Nevertheless, innocent 
recreations., especially in the home, are rightly defended and 
justly popular. We know not who has more discreetly voiced 
the best religious sentiment than the Rev. Theodore L« 
Cuyler, D. D., whose piety and orthodoxy can not be ques- 
tioned. " Let it be understood," he says, fc, at the outset that 
the law of Christianity is an not an iron-clad asceticism c God 
never made man to be a monk, or this bright world to be a 
monastery. If life has its times to weep, so hath it times to 
laugh. Our blessed Lord more than once shed tears; but 
may he not have often smiled, or even indulged in the good 
old Christian liberty of laughter: Holiness signifies whole- 
ness, wholth, health: and health breeds innocent mirth. If 
mirth may be innocent, recreation is not only innocent, it is 
indispensable. Martin Luther relieves his stern polemics with 
the Pope by cheerful songs at the fireside and by decorating 
Christmas trees for the children: old Lyman Beecher lets off 
the steam, after an evening's work at revival preaching, by 
capering to the music of his violin, until his prudent spouse 
protests against his saltatory exercises, lest he wear out his 
home-knit stockings; Gladstone, the king of living statesmen, 
recreates with his axe; Spurgeon, the king of living preachers, 
recreates with his game of bowls: the saintly McCheyne, of 
Scotland, with his gymnastic poles and bars. All these were 



YOU AXD I. 



233 



men : not angels. God has ordained that men should play, as 
well as labor. The friction of the care and toil requires this 
lubrication. Childhood is a type of wholesome piety, both 
from its fund of faith and its fund of innocent playfulness. It 
is a true saving that ' no creature lives which must not work 
and may not play. 1 

What is recreation? We reply: everything that re-creates 
what is lost by life's daily frictions and fatigues. Whatever 
makes the body healthier, the mind clearer, and the immortal 
powers more vigorous, is Christian recreation. To deny our- 
selves such wholesome reanimations may be hazardous folly: 
but to restrain others from them is an infringement upon 
Chistian liberty. The rights of Christian conscience are 
sacred here, as elsewhere : but conscience requires solid prin- 
ciples of truth for its guidance. 

We lay down. then, this principle, that whatever tends to 
improve the body and mind is right : whatever endangers the 
moral health and inflames the evil passions is wrong. The 
one strengthens : the other only stimulates and often poisons. 
The one refreshes: the other ruins." And some of our lead- 
ing divines even go farther than to assert the propriety and 
rightfulness of home amusements : they take up the aggressive 
side, and insist on parental attention to the wants of children in 
this particular. Thus Rev. Dr. Arthur Edwards, in a recent 
issue of the Northwestern Christian Advocate, came out in 
strong language, favoring ample substitution for every game 
and festival discriminated against. "If any subject." said he. 
•• is written and preached and argued quite to death, it is the 
•amusement question.' Lame men declaim against dancing: 
those who cannot correctly define ' fiction ' cry out against 
' the novel': the rink is condemned by men who can not stand 
upon skates: theatre-going is outlawed by some who never 
read a Shakespearean play, and cards are pounded by some 



234 



HOME ATTRACTIONS AND AMUSEMENTS. 



injudicious persons who do not discriminate between an inno- 
cent ' game of authors 1 and euchre, or croquet and billiards. 
The intention is all right, but many methods in this warfare 
are all wrong. Those who condemn all fiction have no right 
to expect a hearing. Others, who castigate young people 
because they seek amusement of some kind, make the problem 
all the more complicated by unwise and undiscriminating 
opposition. A boy or girl, threatened by any real evil on the 
amusement question, deserves the most kindly, patient, con- 
siderate, loving treatment. The tendency among the young 
to assemble for entertainment is as natural and right as for 
the old to assemble for prayer. When this tendency shows 
itself, the church and home need their longest-headed and 
biggest-hearted generals to guide the youngsters aright. 
Never try to assassinate the youngsters' love and desire for 
play. Let them frolic, and then see 'to it that the frolicsome 
youngsters are guided into innocent fun. If you do not want 
damaging freshets of aggregated tendency in wrong directions, 
see to it that you dig legitimate channels in which those young 
spirits can flow. Remember that a bit of industrious work to 
provide ' substitutes ' will do more to keep things right than 
can thirty sermons, forty lectures, and fifty scoldings. When 
you take away a bad book, you are in debt to the boy until 
you give him a safe book which is just as interesting as the 
one you took. If you make war on an unsafe party, go right 
along and plan a safe party. If you defeat a social dance, you 
are under bonds to organize some substitute that will make 
the boys and girls glad you spoiled their original programme. 
Substitution, substitution, substitution points out the golden 
path to safety and solves the knotty problem. Public discus- 
sion has its place when public opinion is divided, but wise, 
calm, loving, home administration is the real point of power. 
Some dear, stern, unsympathetic, repelling saints do downright 



YOU AND I. 



235 



harm when they rail at the young without stint and never lift 
a finger to brighten a child's life. Such people actually sug- 
gest evil, when they incite youngsters to plan something that 
will make such uninfluential saints scold. We have known 
boys to conspire to do something to horrify 'Uncle Acid,' or 
'Aunty Pickle.' Do you plan to make the life of the young- 
sters brighter? If you do, you may find that you have taken 
a long step toward attracting them into Christ's church." 




SELF-RESPECT, 



BY 



A. R. TA YLOR, Ph. D. 




IVINE teaching is, " Love thy 
neighbor as thyself." Here lies 
the key to all good action, to all 
profitable intercourse. The meas- 
ure of love for our fellows is love 
for self. This is the least we are 
lip permitted to give. The patience, 
|g the charity, the service due our 
neighbor, is thus easily determined. 
Whatever one would do for himself, 
he should be willing to do for his neighbor, — 
not for the next-door resident, — but for the man who 
is needing help. The Master does not condemn self-love, but 
simply asks that the same respect, the same love, which one 
cherishes for himself be given to his neighbor also. Now, if 
self-love or self-respect be small, how little of glory would 
there be in the Christian religion, how little would it accom- 
plish for mankind. That natural, universal principle which 
moves us in seeking comfort, happiness, education, wealth, 
position, is made the line by which we may ascertain our 
duties to our fellows. 

Self-respect is not exactly self-love, but very akin to it. 
Self-love, inordinately developed, becomes selfishness, and self- 

236 



SELF-RESPECT. 



287 



ishness is the mother of self-indulgence. But self-love mani- 
fests itself thus only when the love for mankind is not thus 
correspondingly developed. Respect precedes love. It is 
hardly possible to love without respecting. Yet respect may 
exist without love. The maiden says, and may say truly: "I 
respect you, Mr. Jones, but I can not love you. 1 ' Mr. Jones, 
though a very ordinary man, knows what that means. A 
says : " I know B is a good man. I respect him, but I have 
no love for him." C says: "I know my obligation to D is 
great, but I do not even respect him; how then can I love 
him? 11 Even the filial spirit sometimes dies out as one loses 
respect for a parent. 

What is it to respect another? It is to honor him, to esteem 
him worthy of favor, to have regard for him, to have consid- 
eration for his feelings, his opinions, his age, his idiosyncrasies. 
We respect a judge when we have due regard for his decisions, 
a leader when we obey his commands, a neighbor when we 
recognize his rights. We may respect the office and yet have 
little regard for the man who occupies it; may respect one 
simply for his discoveries, his inventions, his genius, his ser- 
vice to his country. When, however, self is the object of 
the respect, it is impossible to lose sight of the whole of one's 
life and character. Memory, judgment and consciousness are 
too faithful to permit a partial view. In spite of all that can 
be done, too often some " damned spot will not out 11 and self- 
respect becomes a loathing. We know ourselves thoroughly, 
— our thoughts, our desires, our envyings, temptations, ambi- 
tions, — though we know very little of others. Perhaps 'tis 
well! Byron protests against lifting the veil from off our 
fellows, for it is best to remain ignorant of 

"The hell that's there." 
Frankly, is he not a rare man who could respect and love 



238 



YOU AND I. 



and confide in a neighbor, did he know that he possessed such 
a history as his own self? The importance of intelligent 
moral training from earliest childhood becomes alarming. 
Though one may carry his own secrets through life, though 
mother, sister, wife be blissfully ignorant of them all, how 
surely do they return in hours of triumph to dim its brightest 
glories, in hours of devotion to disturb its most hallowed 
reveries ! 

That only obtains true respect and genuine homage which 
has the semblance of virtue. Virtue only retains such respect. 
This is true of self as well as of others. Few men become so 
degraded that they do not have some regard for that which 
they conceive to be pure and holy. The selfish boor becomes 
generous and tender to the mute appeals of the blue-eyed 
babe. The coarse jester plays not with the name of a sainted 
mother. The heartless libertine trembles before the indig- 
nant remonstrance of innocent beauty. It is equally true that 
few become so dead to the perception of the hideousness of 
sin that they really respect it, even though it welcomes them 
to gilded palaces and sumptuous feasts. The wild mobs that 
sometimes assume to vindicate the majesty of the law are not 
composed entirely of the most immaculate of citizens. 

It is now well recognized that the desire for the esteem of 
our fellows is natural and commendable. It is, however, like 
all other desires, liable to gross abuse. It may become an 
absorbing passion, and every noble sentiment may be throttled 
in the effort for its gratification; and yet, it may be the means 
by which one may be kept in the paths of probity and virtue. 
The desire brings true happiness only when the consciousness 
of merit is well defined, and the applause of the multitude 
becomes sweet music only when the highest tribunal, the 
human conscience, joins in full accord. Conscience, then, is 
the arbiter, and self-respect is based upon its judgments. 



SELF-RESPECT. 



239 



Though friends may misinterpret, and confidence be wanting, 
a sweet, an abiding solace supports him whose self-respect 
remains. Given, powers like unto God, the great universe of 
matter and of truth at his service, heirship to immortality. 
This is man, and this is why " Thou art mindful of him." Why 
should he not respect himself? In him is unlimited possibility, 
empire, dominion. Why should he repress and contemn his 
longings for discovery, for development, for the realization of 
the beautiful, the true and the good? Why should he, a veri- 
table ingrate, abuse himself and curse the day that gave him 
life ? His respect for the gift as well as for the Giver is shown 
by his treatment of it. A man who deliberately burns his 
own home or squanders all of his property is said to be insane, 
but what must be true of him who destroys that most precious 
of all possessions — his own soul? This phase of self-respect 
— regard for self as constituted by nature — lies at the base 
of all laudable endeavor. " For what I am God is responsible; 
for what I shall be I am responsible " is full of fruitful sugges- 
tions on both phases of the subject. Everybody ought to 
understand that, and, when understood, its truth is incontro- 
vertible.' If one have talent, he is responsible for its use; he 
ought to be thankful for it, and seek every means for its culti- 
vation. It is only in this way that he can show his apprecia- 
tion of it or gain any profit from it. 

Without a past, but equipped for a future, the child soon 
begins to make history. His thoughts, his acts become a part 
of himself, and these develop that aggregate of attributes 
which is called character. It is evident that the higher the 
regard for the mind upon which the character is to stamp 
itself, the greater will be the solicitude for wise thinking and 
wise acting. How important, then, the knowledge of one's 
self even at a very early age. Good old Samuel Smiles says: 
" Man cannot aspire, if he look down. If he will rise, he must 



240 



YOU AND I. 



look up. Self-respect is the noblest garment with which a 
man may clothe himself. The most elevating feeling with 
which the mind can be inspired. This sentiment, carried into 
daily life, will be found at the root of all the virtues — clean- 
liness, sobriety, chastity, morals, religion." He quotes Mill as 
saying " that the pious and just honoring of ourselves may be 
thought the radical moisture and fountain-head from which 
every laudable and worthy enterprise issues forth." " Honor 
the soul," says Plato, " and the best way to honor it is to make 
it better. The worst penalty for evil doing is to grow up into 
the likeness of the bad; for each man's soul changes according 
to the nature of his deeds for better or for worse." 

A German writer says there is nothing of absolute value 
except the will directed by the right. So firmly is this im- 
planted in the human heart, in whatever way it may find 
expression, that such actions always command respect. The 
honest man applies the same criteria to himself. Then, in 
self-culture, is not the way plain? If virtue is worth anything 
in thy neighbor, is it not worth more in thee? If charity 
becometh thy companion, is it any the less ornamental to thy- 
self? If patience crowneth thy mother's virtues, doth it detract 
from thine own ? If manly courage in thy friend awaken thine 
admiration, will it do less for thine own manhood? Again, if 
falsehood debase thy neighbor in thine eyes, will it make thyself 
more desirable? If passion bring shame to thine enemy, will it 
not also be unseemly in thyself? If greed manifest itself so 
notoriously in thy grocer, will it be more attractive in thyself? 
No, no! Whatsoever things are lovely in thy neighbor would 
also be lovely in thine own nature. Those things which make 
thee respect thy neighbor, and those only, as thou knowest full 
well, will permit thee to respect thyself. This difference 
appears: though thou mayest mourn for thy neighbor and 
withdraw thy respect, his waywardness does not make thee 



SELF-RESPECT. 



241 



altogether unhappy, but the contemplation «of thine own short- 
comings may both destroy thy self-respect and make thee 
inexpressibly miserable. 

Such a punishment as this, — the loss of self-respect — is a great 
and may be an irreparable misfortune. A happy relief may 
indeed come again and again on an appeal unto the rectitude of 
thine intentions, but it is dangerous to rely upon it. One who 
loses self-respect will soon lose the respect of his fellows. The 
story betrays itself in the expression of the eye, in the coun- 
tenance, in the manners. Sooner or later it is read of many 
men. Think not that it can be hidden. If one have no regard 
for the furniture of his own home, he must not expect his 
neighbors to handle it carefully. If he does not hold the honor 
of his children in high esteem, he must not be surprised to rind 
it lightly regarded by other people. If he cares nothing for 
his good name, he will not have one long. What more piti- 
able sight than that of the man who is totally dead to all 
sense of self-respect; whose manners, dress, language, mien, — 
all betoken utter abandon. To him, what mean the chaste 
perfume of the fragrant lily, the glad carols of spring-time's 
merry messengers, the tender tokens of loving friendship, the 
hallowed songs of sweet devotion? He is indifferent even to 
death itself! The man who acts from base motives soon 
imagines everybody else to be doing the same thing. Virtue 
silenced in himself, he responds not to its generous rhythm in 
others. A sham himself, all others are masked. Filthy 
within, as a Thersites he strives to befoul all his fellows. 
With the flight of confidence in self, has gone all trust in man- 
kind in general, and, frightened at his own conjurings, he 
lives, a friendless hermit in the midst of joyous laughter and 
generous cheer, a garrulous dyspeptic at boards groaning 
beneath the weight of steaming viands and smiling plenty. 
With self-respect, everything has gone, — independence, ambi- 

16 



24:2 



YOU AND I. 



tion, grateful tribute, sweet content, loving service. Have 
high regard, then, unto thy self-respect. Live thine ideal. Be 
what thou dost seem. In times of danger.be brave; in temp- 
tation, be incorruptible ; in times of want, be generous; to the 
lowly, be gentle and courteous as well as to the more favored 
of earth. Build carefully, build well. The conquest of self 
is victory. Such victory is its own blessedest reward. Emer- 
son says: "Rectitude is a perpetual victory, celebrated not by 
cries of joy, but by serenity, which is joy fixed or habitual." 
Self-respect being the foundation for self-dependence, every 
grace should enter into self-culture. It begets stability of char- 
acter. The man who does not value his own powers, who 
has no regard for the sacred demands of his own better 
nature, for his own good name, will be driven about as the 
cork with which yonder eddy sports. Unswerving regard for 
his own integrity, for his own happiness, for the right, makes 
him an ornament to society, an honor to his race, and an 
inspiration to a nobler manhood. The eyelashes stand as sen- 
tinels to guard the eye, so self-respect guards the soul. The 
best heritage to man is the inspiration to love virtue and to be 
virtuous. Cherish it as thy life! 

The perversion of self-respect is easily seen in obstinate 
adherence to a former view though now convinced of its error, 
to plans for pleasure despite the desires and inconvenience of 
others, in the attempt to avenge an injury, to resent a slight, 
in the acceptance of a challenge to fight a duel. All such 
procedures do violence to one's better nature and fill the 
mind with false ideals of manhood. They mislead, confuse, 
obscure. They defeat the end. Man must act from higher 
motives, if he attain a just claim to his own self-respect. To 
deserve well of thyself and of thy fellows, then, avoid every 
appearance of evil. Shun the lewd, the coarse, the envious, 
the contentious. Let the words of thy mouth, the desires of 



SELF-RESPECT. 



243 



thy heart, the thoughts of thy mind, be such as thou wouldst 
not blush to have thy mother know. Be manly, be industrious, 
be frugal, be truthful, be generous, be* thoughtful, be coura- 
geous, be faithful, be devoted, BE! 




HOW TO WRITE A LETTER. 



BY 



G. DE LAZARRE, PH. £>., LL. D. 
"A good letter has laid the foundation of many a man's fortune." 




HE writing of a letter is to 
% many people a difficult task, 
from various points of view. 
They are at a loss as to the most 
fitting manner in which to explain 
what they have to communicate, 
and one, two, three, and four 
sheets of paper often bear witness 
to their attempts and failures. 
At some point in a letter, either 
at the commencement or at the 
finish, it strikes them that something is not as it should be, 
or they come to a dead-lock altogether. Others, again, have 
not the intelligence to discover for themselves that their letter 
is not up to the regulation standard of notes in general, and in 
consequence is open to being considered an odd sort of a letter. 

In writing letters, it is curious to observe how closely any 
particular set of words and expressions are followed by the 
generality of people; they accept a model and adhere to it; but 
phrases in force in letter- writting change as everything changes, 
and what was strictly proper to write some twenty or thirty 
years ago, is not quite the thing to-day. Thus, certain phrases. 

2U 



YOU AND I. 



245 



arrive at a point where they may be considered pedantic, 
ponderous or common, and even vulgar. 

To commence a letter to a comparative stranger, or to a 
person with whom the writer is but slightly acquainted, on 
any matter of interest, is the first difficulty to be overcome. 
Shall it be a letter or a note, written in the first or in the 
third person? This is to many a perplexing question, and yet 
there need be no doubt on the matter, as there is a safe rule 
for everyone's guidance respecting it. In all communications 
with strangers, it would be correct to write in the third per- 
son. A very slight acquaintance, or a faint personal knowl- 
edge, would authorize a letter being written in the first person, 
if it were to be of any length. 

It is an accomplishment to write a good letter, and one of 
which few can boast; while, to write a bad one, is so general a 
practice that the receipt of a good letter almost amounts to an 
agreeable surprise. 

With regard to the composition of a letter, it should always 
be remembered that if it has a purpose, a reason or an object 
for being written, this fact should not be lost sight of, or over- 
weighted with a mass of extraneous matter. It is also idle to 
devote the first page of a letter to trivial excuses for not hav- 
ing written sooner, when a still longer delay might have been 
allowed to occur if it suited the convenience of the writer; 
but when the letter requires an immediate answer, it is then a 
matter of politeness to give the reason for the delay, and this 
should be explained without circumlocution. 

There is no little excuse for short-comings in the matter of 
letter-writing on the part of very young people ; home letters 
have probably been their only experience in this branch of 
study, and, with facts and affection for a basis, the composi- 
tions have not offered much difficulty during school days. It 
is when girls are merging into womanhood, and boys into 



246 



HOW TO WRITE A LETTER. 



manhood, that want of fluency in letter-writing is acutely felt 
by them, not only in youth, but in after years. Some are 
more conscious than others of their deficiencies in this respect, 
and to write a letter, or even a simple note, is to them a 
trouble and a bore; later on, they take refuge in the fact that 
they are bad correspondents, and in saying this, it serves as an 
excuse for writing very short letters, or for not writing at all. 

Many people confess, when obliged to write letters, that 
they have no idea what to say beyond the preliminary phrase; 
they are afraid to trust their pen with their thoughts, for fear 
of getting out of their depth, and of not being able to recover 
themselves without becoming slightly involved and hazy as to 
grammar. Others have no thoughts to express beyond a 
vague notion that a letter has to be written, and must be gone 
through with somehow. 

To receive a well-expressed, neatly written letter, creates a 
feeling of pleasant gratification; it is often read more than 
once, and is never consigned to the flames, as is often the case 
with a dull, uninteresting and slovenly written one. One 
charm of a good letter lies, perhaps, in making it personally 
considerate ; another is, that it should clearly call to mind the 
individuality of the writer. 

Inquiries after health in a letter should be made with deli- 
cacy and discretion, always remembering that some are thin- 
skinned on this subject, while others like to discuss it 
con amove. 

A clever writer keeps his affairs very much in the back- 
ground, unless they are at a crisis, when they would, of course, 
possess interest of an unusual character; otherwise, to relate 
trivial matters for the sake of having something to say is fool- 
ish and egotistical. 

Do not accuse yourself of writing stupid, dull or uninterest- 
ing letters, lest your friends take you at your word and 
endorse the written verdict. 



YOU AND I. 



247 



In answering a letter a proof of poor imagination is to 
minutely paraphrase each paragraph of the letter under treat- 
ment. Questions naturally demand answers, and important 
facts call for comment, but trivial remarks and observations, 
perhaps pleasantly put, should not be returned to their author 
with poor platitudes attached to them. 

Letter-writing may be said to be divided into notes and 
letters. Formerly a note written in the third person invari- 
ably commenced with " Mrs. B presents her compliments to 
Mrs. C," but now the words " presents compliments 71 have 
fallen very much into disfavor, and, whenever any other open- 
ing phrase can be readily substituted, it is better to employ it. 
Indeed, it may be taken as a rule that compliments are only 
presented to a complete stranger, either officially or profession- 
ally speaking, and whenever an acquaintanceship exists, even 
of the slightest possible character, the expressions are used in 
preference to the words "presents her or his compliments." 
The nature of the note itself would probably determine the 
most appropriate expression wherewith to commence it. To 
frame a note without introducing compliments at its com- 
mencement is the adopted mode of writing one. 

The subject under discussion does not require this prelimin 
ary introduction, and it is best to embody it in the opening 
sentence. There are few people careless enough to lapse 
from the third person into the first in the course of a short 
note; but still, it is worth guarding against. Notes are prin- 
cipally confined to the briefest of communications, as, when 
they are lengthy, the repetition of pronouns becomes weari- 
some if not involved, to say nothing of the possessive pro- 
nouns which are frequently brought into use, with the addi- 
tions of surnames. When it is necessary to write in the third 
person, it is most desirable to construct each sentence so as 
to avoid an extravagant use of pronouns, and never at an}' 



2-iS 



HOW TO WRITE A LETTER. 



time resort to the vulgar expedient of attempting a sort 
of compromise by making the initial letter of the writer and 
of the person written to, do duty for their respective surnames. 

It is observable that a cramped style is no longer in vogue, 
and, when seen, appears very much out of date. The prevail- 
ing style of writing is bold and free. A free use of capitals is 
also indulged in, which gives a dash of originality and spirit to 
a letter when not overdone. 

It was formerly considered in rather bad style to underline 
words in a letter, but now, if a writer wishes to be very 
emphatic, or to call particular attention to any remark, an 
additional stroke of the pen is not objectionable; but it is a 
liberty not to be taken when writing to those with whom one is 
on ceremony. 

Many people experience a certain difficulty in the choice of 
a conventional term with which to conclude a ceremonious 
letter, and it must be admitted that there is not much variety 
at command; "yours truly," "yours sincerely," "yours faith- 
fully," "yours respectfully," with the addition, perhaps, of the 
adverb " very," being the principal formulas in use, and it is 
on the whole immaterial whether " truly " or " sincerely " be 
employed when writing to friends. The affectionate expres- 
sions addressed to still dearer friends and relations are outside 
the question. 

By way of not concluding a letter too abruptly, it is usual, 
before the words "yours truly," "yours faithfully," etc., to 
add one or the other of such phrases as these: "Believe me, 
dear Mr. or Mrs. B," or "Believe me, dear Mr. or Mrs. C, 
with kind regards," and this gives a certain finish and com- 
pleteness to a letter which would otherwise be wanting. 

A want of punctuation in a letter will often cause a sentence 
or paragraph to be misunderstood, and made to convey a 
meaning the reverse of what was intended. 



YOU AND I. 



249 



Marks of interrogation should not be omitted from a letter 
when questions are asked, though many consider it a waste of 
time to make use of them; and marks of exclamation, when 
required, materially assist in the clearer understanding of a 
passage which, without them, might have a vague meaning. 

Another practice of the past, now happily discarded, is that 
of writing length-wise across a sheet of paper. Two sheets of 
paper should be used if one sheet will not contain all that is to 
be said. If a few last words are necessary for the completion 
of a letter, they must be written on the margin, not across 
the writing on the face of the paper. 

A strictly business custom is to write on the first and third 
pages of a sheet of note paper, leaving the second and fourth 
pages blank, or to write on the first and fourth pages, leaving 
the other two blank. This is done for convenience in making 
letter-press copies. 

In addressing envelopes, the address should be written 
legibly in the centre, and not run off into the corner of the 
envelope. Many people write their initials, or name in full, in 
one corner of the envelope, but this is a matter of choice. 

Composing a Letter. — Every one writes letters now-a-days, 
though few persons can write one to please themselves, or to 
satisfy others. It is not, however, surprising that so few can 
write a good and correct letter, considering how little atten- 
tion is devoted to the study of their own language by so many 
of the educated classes. 

The art is not so very difficult to acquire. It needs only 
thought and practice to become a ready writer, although it 
requires great talent to write letters of the highest order. 
Every one who is able to converse easily and correctly, ought 
to be able — and, with practice, will be able, — to write a 
good letter, for letters should be written conversation. Few 



250 



HOW TO WRITE A LETTER. 



persons are good conversationalists ; but most persons of good 
education can converse much better than they can write. 
The reason is that they are more natural in speaking than in 
writing. They utter their thoughts freely in speech, but strive 
to write elegantly and showily, for display, and the consequence 
is that they write artificially. 

Write as you would speak, and write on until you have 
written all that you would speak if your friend were present, 
as far as a letter of reasonable length will allow. 

A long, loosely-written, rambling, ill-arranged letter is more 
easily written than a correct, short one, for condensing and 
arranging require thought and skill. In a post-script to one of 
the " Provincial Letters," Pascal excuses himself for the letter 
being so long, on the plea that he had not time to make it 
shorter. 

Never sit down to write a long or important letter, with 
your head full of matter, but without any definite plan or 
arrangement. Before you begin to write such a letter, think 
clearly upon every subject on which you intend to write, and 
not vaguely or upon parts of it only. 

Before writing a very long or important letter, it is a good 
plan to set down the heads of everything upon which you in- 
tend to write, and sometimes to make brief notes on the sub- 
jects; then bring those that are connected together, and 
afterward arrange the whole in proper order; or, you can 
write upon separate leaves all that you have to say upon 
each subject, as it occurs to you, then arrange these passages 
in the best order, and afterward copy the whole, keeping the 
original copy if necessary. This will prevent your having 
to write things in one part of your letter which would have 
been better placed in some other part, or making additions 
after your letter is concluded. If a fresh thought should 
occur to you while writing your letter, make a memorandum 



YOU AND I. 



251 



of it, and write it in its proper place, or, becoming absorbed 
in your letter, you will probably forget it. 

A letter, or writing of any length, will generally contain 
many things which should be placed under different heads. 
In writing or printing, each of these should begin a new para- 
graph. These were formerly distinguished by the sign as 
will be found in old letters, manuscripts and books. By para- 
graphing each subject, your letter will be more easily under- 
stood and referred to. Each paragraph should commence 
about a half or a quarter of an inch from the left-hand edge of 
the paper, as you face it. 

Generally, begin your letter with the most important subject, 
and write all that you have to write upon it before you pro- 
ceed to the next subject; but sometimes the most important 
subject should come later, or last, as when you wish it to pro- 
duce the greatest and most lasting impression. Do not, if you 
can avoid it, attempt to write any important letter when unwell, 
fatigued, or soon after a good meal. 

A too frequent use of the first personal pronoun — Mr. 
I -by myself -I, as it has been quaintly termed, — should be 
avoided. 

Always give your address and the date of writing, at the 
head of every letter. 

The note style is often adopted by persons who are strangers, 
or not sufficiently known to each other to allow a familiar style 
of correspondence. Formal invitations of all kinds, congratu- 
lations, short requests, etc., are best conveyed in the note 
form; but a familiar invitation to dinner, etc., to a friend, 
should be sent in a letter. A note should not give a full 
account of any transaction, or enter minutely into any details 
of trade or business, friendly inquiries, or news of any kind; 
it may be friendly, but it must be formal, neat, brief, and so 
plain in its statement as to require no explanation, or any 



252 



HOW TO WRITE A LETTER. 



further correspondence beyond an equally plain, polite, and 
neat reply; and the reply should be in the note form, unless 
from an inferior to one much superior. 

Personal Pronouns. — It is a common but very gross mis- 
take of uneducated people, to confuse the first and third 
persons ; correctly commencing the note, thus, " Mr. Thomp- 
son will be pleased," etc., and then using the pronoun, I, in the 
body of the note, instead of he, or Mr. Thompson. In a 
letter, the first person, I, should be used throughout, and in 
the note form, the third, he or she. 

Neatness. — Write legibly, and use good pens and paper, 
such as suit your style of handwriting. Fold the letter neatly. 
See that it is free from blots. These apparent trifles should 
be attended to, as many persons judge of a writer's character 
and habits by the appearance of his letter. There may be 
excuses for poor penmanship, but any one who can write 
at all can make his letters neat in general form. A prom- 
inent merchant once said to me that no successful business 
man would employ a clerk whose letters were slovenly, but a 
neatly written letter was the best recommendation for a 
young man seeking employment. 

Enclose a Stamped Envelope. — When you write upon busi- 
ness to a person who is not bound to send an answer, and you 
wish for a reply, enclose a directed and stamped envelope. 

Remember that putting words upon paper is a very differ- 
ent affair from uttering the same words, inasmuch as words 
spoken may be forgotten, or their precise meaning disputed 
or denied, while a written letter remains indelible and unalter- 
able. When you put your hand to an assertion or an 
opinion, it becomes your own, and you are held answerable 
for it. For this reason, you ought to use great caution not 



YOU AND I. 



253 



to write, even to your dearest friend, anything you would 
afterward hesitate to acknowledge. To request your corre- 
spondent to burn a letter, except in very special cases, implies 
that you have written something of which you are ashamed, 
or that you are afraid of its being known, and perhaps the 
very circumstance of the request being made, will induce the 
receiver to preserve the letter. You should not forget that it 
is possible for your dearest friend to become your bitterest 
enemy, and equally so for your bitterest enemy to wish to be 
reconciled to you. Therefore write with warm but not foolish 
confidence to the friend, and with dignity instead of haughti- 
ness to your enemy. 

The Handwriting. — The inconveniences arising from bad 
handwriting are not sufficiently regarded. It is very annoy- 
ing to receive a letter, half the contents of which remain a 
mystery to us in consequence of our being unable to decipher 
it. A handwriting often looks well at first glance, but 
proves very difficult to read. Bad handwriting often causes 
serious loss of time and temper. A letter which, if legibly 
written, would require only a few minutes to read, will, when 
the handwriting is bad, frequently occupy much time in 
the attempt to decipher it, often with no certainty that the 
meaning has been correctly apprehended. Dates, names, 
places, and amounts of money are peculiarly liable to 
misapprehension. Some years ago, three literary men, who 
were arbitrators in the case of a prize essay, at first rejected 
the essay which ultimately gained the prize, solely on account 
of the difficulty of deciphering it, as one of them stated 
afterward. No doubt the rejection, by publishers, of essays,, 
poems and works of every sort, especially from unknown 
authors, frequently occurs because of the bad handwriting. 

All persons should endeavor to acquire a plain, legible hand- 



254 



HOW TO WRITE A LETTER. 



writing. Some people erroneously suppose it plebeian and 
common to write legibly — like those satirized by Shakespeare : 

"I once did hold it, as our statists do, 
A baseness to write fair, and labored much 
How to forget that learning; but, sir, now 
It did me yeoman's service." — Hamlet. 

Try to write the whole of what you are about to write, 
equally well and even, and do not hurry toward the end. 
Many persons begin evenly and well, but finish by writing 
carelessly, and often illegibly. Such writers often slope some 
lines much more than others, make the letters of different 
sizes, and even give different forms to the same letter; for 
instance, using a straight // in one word and a looped h in 
another word — not for facility of writing, as when a looped d 
is used, but from mere carelessness. 

Flourishing. — Form the letters evenly, clearly, and mod- 
erately large. Never use flourishes in a letter, however 
short or long it may be. Flourishes have a pretentious 
appearance and are not gentlemanly; long-topped and long- 
tailed letters are apt to make words confused by running into 
the lines above and below. If you have contracted a habit of 
forming any letters badly or indistinctly, practice writing 
these letters, and words containing them, till you have cor- 
rected the fault. 

Style. — A familiar letter should be, as it were, a conversa- 
tion carried on upon paper, between two friends at a distance. 
Speaking of style in epistolary writing, a famous writer says: 

" Its first and fundamental requisite is to be natural and 
simple ; for a stiff and labored manner is as bad in a letter as 
it is in conversation. This does not banish sprightliness and 
wit. These are grateful in letters, just as they are in conver- 



YOU AND I. 



255 



sation, when they flow easily, and without being studied, — 
when employed so as to season, not to cloy. One who, either 
in conversation or in letters, affects to shine and to sparkle 
always, will not please long. The style of letters should not 
be too highly polished. It ought to be neat and correct, but 
no more. All nicety about words betrays study; and hence 
musical periods, and appearances of numbers and harmony in 
arrangement, should be carefully avoided in letters. The best 
letters are commonly such as the authors have written with 
the most facility. What the heart or the imagination dictates, 
always flows readily; but where there is no subject to warm 
or interest these, constraint appears; and hence those letters 
of mere compliment, congratulation, or affected condolence, 
which have cost the authors most labor in composing, and 
which, for that reason, they perhaps consider as their master- 
pieces, never fail of being the most disagreeable to the read- 
ers. It ought, at the same time, to be remembered that the 
ease and simplicity which I have recommended in epistolary 
correspondence are not to be understood as importing entire 
carelessness. In writing to the most intimate friend, a certain 
degree of attention, both to the subject and to the style, is 
requisite and becoming. It is no more than what we owe 
both to ourselves, and to the friend with whom we correspond. 
A slovenly and negligent manner of writing is a disobliging 
mark of want of respect. The liberty, besides, of writing 
letters with too careless a hand, is apt to betray persons into 
imprudence in what they write. The first requisite, both in 
conversation and correspondence, is to attend to all proper 
decorums which our own character, and that of others, de- 
mand. An imprudent expression in conversation may be for- 
gotten and pass away; but when we take the pen into our 
hand, we must remember that { Liter 'a serif ta manet? " 

But though the composition of a letter should not be so 



256 



HOW TO WRITE A LETTER. 



studied as that of an essay, attention to the following observa- 
tions is desirable: 

Clearness should be first considered. 

Perspicuity, or clearness of arrangement, depends chiefly 
on placing all modifying words and phrases so they will bear 
as directly as possible on the words or phrases to which they 
refer. 

Words expressing things connected in thought should be 
placed as near to each other as possible. Ambiguities are 
frequently occasioned by the improper position of words, and 
also by the too frequent repetition of pronouns referring to 
different persons. The most important words ought to be 
placed in the situation in which they will make the strongest 
impression. Thoughts that have no intimate connection, 
should never be crowded into one sentence. Parenthesis 
ought to be avoided, if possible, in the middle of sentences. 

Sentences ought never to be extended beyond what seems 
to be their natural close. A fresh sentence should be begun 
when the preceding one is naturally finished. A weak asser- 
tion or observation should never come after a stronger one. 
A sentence ought never to be concluded with a weak or harsh 
word, and not too often with a monosyllable. A continued 
succession of long or short sentences should generally be 
avoided. 

Prune every sentence of all words that do nothing toward 
bringing out the meaning; but care must be taken that no 
words be omitted that are necessary to complete the gram- 
matical construction of those which remain. 

Great conciseness is not adapted to readers of inferior 
capacity or cultivation. If too much is comprised in very few 
words, the mind may be so hurried from one thing to another 
as not to apprehend each particular. This, however, should 



YOU AND I. 



257 



be obviated rather by repeating the same thing in various 
forms, than by filling a sentenee with redundant words. 

In writing to different persons, of different positions, and on 
different subjects, it is necessary to vary the style, which 
requires considerable practice and address. 

Good sense and correct tastes are the only safe guides. 

Choice of Words. — Language is the dress of thought. The 
best abilities are shown to disadvantage if the writing or con- 
versation is clothed in coarse, vulgar, or ungrammatical lan- 
guage. Many a ludicrous anecdote is told of persons ventur- 
ing to use words of which they did not know the proper 
meaning. Who can tell how much of his own good fortune, 
or want of success, how much of the favor or disregard with 
which he has been treated, may have depended upon his lan- 
guage, and upon that knowledge or ignorance of grammar of 
which, as often as he has either spoken or written, he must 
have afforded a certain and constant evidence? 

An orator's advice to public speakers is equally applicable 
to general composition. He says we should observe the 
"obvious rule laid down by Aristotle, to avoid uncommon, 
and, as they are vulgarly called, bad words, that is, those 
which are such to the persons addressed. Those who wish to 
be understood by the lower orders of the English, should prefer 
terms of Saxon origin, which will generally be more familiar 
to them than those derived from the Latin (either directly or 
through the medium of the French), even when the latter are 
more in use among persons of education. The English language 
being, with very trifling exceptions, made up of these elements, 
it is very easy for any one, though unacquainted with Saxon, 
to observe this precept, if he has but a knowledge of Latin or 
of French; and there is a remarkable scope for such a choice 
as I am speaking of, from the multitude of synonyms derived 
17 



258 



HOW TO WRITE A LETTER. 



respectively from those two sources. A word of French 
origin will very often not have a single word of Saxon deriva- 
tion corresponding to it, but may find an exact equivalent in a 
phrase, or two or more words. For example: ' Constitute,' 
'go to make up; 7 'suffice,' 'be enough for;' 'substitute,' 'put 
in the stead,' etc. It is worthy of notice that a style composed 
chiefly of words of French origin, while it is less intelligible to 
the lowest classes, is characteristic of those who, in cultivation 
of taste, are below the highest. As in dress, furniture, 
deportment, etc., so also in language — the dread of vulgarity 
constantly besetting those who are half conscious that they are 
in danger of it, drives them into the extreme of affected finery." 

The use of foreign words and phrases, unless necessary, 
should always be avoided. It shows affectation. Barren 
languages may need such assistance, but the English lan- 
guage is not one of these. A famous orator observes 
that " it is a curious instance of whimsical inconsistency that 
many who, with justness, censure as pedantic the frequent in- 
troduction of Greek and Latin words, neither object to, nor 
refrain from, a similar pedantry with respect to French and 
Italian. This kind of affectation is one of the ' dangers ' of ' a 
little learning.' Those who are really good linguists are 
seldom so anxious to display their knowledge. It has been 
the fashion of late years, with some few authors, to write a sort 
of bastard English, full of German idioms and of new-coined 
words fashioned on the German model. This passes with 
some persons for uncommon eloquence; which it resembles in 
being 'uncommon.' Some readers again, of better taste than 
not to condemn this style, are yet so far deceived by it as to 
imagine a great profundity in the thoughts conveyed; the 
oddness of the expression giving an air of originality to much 
that would probably appear trite if said in plain English." 



YOU AND I. 



259 



It has been incorrectly considered, by some artificial critics, 
a fault in English language that it abounds in monosyl- 
lables, but the fault is only in the abuse of them. Many of 
those monosyllables are remarkable for strength, melody, or 
sonorousness, if properly pronounced. But they should be 
fairly mixed with longer words, and care should be taken not 
to conclude a sentence with a crowd of them — those especially 
of the unharmonious kind, such as u to set it up," u to get by 
and by at it," for these spoil a sentence that may be otherwise 
good and are " like the rabble at the close of some pompous 
cavalcade." 

Use no words you do not understand, neither be ashamed 
of any homely words that will express your meaning. Sound- 
ing and show} 7 words, that the speaker does not understand, are 
like other borrowed and cast-off trappings, tokens of shabbi- 
ness, and not of wealth. Do not use a Latin or French word 
when an English one can be found which will do as well, 
although the English word may be thought " low," or " un- 
fashionable." The English word will, nevertheless, be better 
understood. Do not be ashamed of taking a short English 
word,' although a long Latin one may be had. Formerly, it 
was thought that short words were low and weak, and there- 
fore long Latin or French words were looked for. Pope 
says sneeringly: 

"And ten low words oft creep in one dull line." 

Pope and the Latinists are, however, no longer masters. 
Some of the best and sweetest things in any tongue have 
been written not in ten, but in hundreds of low English words. 
Shakespeare and other great poets afford numerous examples. 
If a Latin, French, or Italian word must be taken, make it 
as English as possible. If one may say "usefully," there can 
be no good ground for not saying "usefulness" instead of 



260 



HOW TO WRITE A LETTER. 



"utility," which is not thoroughly English, like the other, 
but is directly derived from the Latin — utilitas. 

"Saxon-English words," says the author of Chambers 1 Eng- 
lish Grammar, kk are generally more familiar than those de- 
rived from Latin and French. The tendency of good authors, 
for some years past, has been to recur to them. * I would 
never say felicity if I could say happiness" says one. The 
use of Latin-English, however, is often desirable, to give ele- 
vation and elegant variety to style." In this, as in almost 
everything else, the middle course is the best. The copious- 
ness of the English language should not be limited bv the 
narrow-mindedness which would exclude either the Saxon as 
common, or the Latin or Greek as too grandiloquent. The 
ivord which best conveys the meaning, is most expressive in 
sound, and most generally understood, should be chosen, with- 
out regard to origin. 

Whenever you have the slightest doubt as to the meaning 
of a word, consult a good dictionary. Those who are not 
well acquainted with the meanings of words, should not rely 
too confidently on the knowledge which they have acquired 
by habit and example alone. There are many words in con- 
stant use which are frequently misapplied, and often quite 
perverted from their original meanings. It is an excellent 
exercise to dip into some standard dictionary occasionally and 
search out the true meanings of words with which the English 
language abounds. Disputes frequently occur, because dif- 
ferent persons attach different meanings to the same word. 

Be not over-careful about the choice of words. Generally, 
the best and most proper words are those which a clear view 
of the subject suggests, without much labor or inquiry after 
them. Quintilian says: "The most proper words, for the 
most part, adhere to the thoughts which are to be expressed 
by them." 



YOU AND I. 



261 



Avoid using slang words or expressions, which are now so 
prevalent among those who ought to know better than to use 
them. Some novelists have been greatly to blame for making 
them popular. 

Every English speaking race has its peculiar and local 
terms, or peculiar and local meanings, attached to good 
national words. Both are avoided by well educated people. 

In studied composition, variety of language should generally 
be employed where possible; that is, the same word should not 
be repeated in the same sentence, or within a short distance. 
L. Murray has the following sentence: — "Along succession 
of either long or short sentences should be avoided; for the 
ear tires of either when too long continued 1 ' " Lengthened " 
might have been used for the first "long," and the last might 
have been dispensed with by saying: " The ear tires of a con- 
tinuation (or continued use) of either." But in writing a 
letter, as in ordinary conversation, although it is not necessary 
to be so particular, it is desirable to avoid a too frequent 
repetition of the same word. To give this variety, without 
sacrificing either propriety or precision, requires great com- 
mand of words, accurate knowledge- of their meaning, and 
much practice in writing. 




TO-DAY AND FIFTY YEARS AGO. 



BY 



MRS. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 




I F T Y years ago there 
would have been no difficulty in 
defining the distinctive marks of 
really good manners, morals, and also 
the peculiar talents or accomplishments 
demanded of those who would claim the 
character of "perfect ladies and perfect gen- 
tlemen." This is an expression frequently 
employed, but each time with widely different signi- 
fication, if one may judge by the varied characters to whom 
it is applied. Sometimes it is the dress, sometimes it is the 
deportment, and sometimes the position of the individual, 
which has been the potent cause which directed that 
expression, " a perfect lady." But fifty years in this progres- 
sive age have greatly changed definitions of many things, and 
nowhere does one find the change more remarkable than in 
the strangely modified laws that are supposed to govern the 
rules and habits of society. 

It is quite bewildering to observe the license in speech and 
behavior permitted among many whose position, either inher- 
ited or wrought out by patient industry, places them among 

262 



TO-DA Y AXD FIFTY YEARS AGO. 



263 



the leaders in all that one naturally expects to find refined, 
intellectual, elegant or fashionable. In the steady advance of 
time and thought, one must recognize many admirable and 
beneficial changes; but we can not believe that the great 
revolution in deportment and conversation, now so noticeable 
among many where we should least expect it, can conduce to 
the richest growth in high moral and intellectual development 
for our young people. Very soon they must take the places 
of their elders in honest endeavors to place our fair country 
where every true patriot ardently desires and believes she will 
stand — among the foremost people on earth. Are our pros- 
pects encouraging? Can they be if those now rapidly 
approaching the line which separates youth from maturity are 
not more carefully guarded and restrained? But if our chil- 
dren go astray and are content to live only for pleasure and 
amusement, growing into manhood and womanhood with 
no aspirations for anything higher, will not the parents, and 
especially the mothers, be held, in no small degree, responsible 
for those wasted, frivolous lives ? 

One sees many women, most truly dignified, lovely and 
refined, modest and gentle in their manners, and faithfully 
trying to lead their children tenderly in the same way they 
endeavor to pursue themselves ; such are accepted, without a 
moment's criticism, as perfect ladies. But we also meet 
mothers who have all the natural gifts and graces of true 
womanhood that the most fastidious could require, but the 
voices of fashion and pleasure have so blunted their finer 
feelings that modesty and delicacy seem to them as obsolete 
ideas, relics of the past ages. They are seen at fashionable 
assemblies and entertainments, with bare arms, neck and 
shoulders, — very bare. It is impossible for a truly modest 
woman to remain unabashed in their presence and see young 
men, in the extreme of absurd fashion (the latest discovery, a 



2(U 



YOU AND I. 



dude, we think), stand by them, lavishing upon them silly 
compliments or extravagant flattery ; and, worst of all, to find 
these women who, if full}' attired, one would expect to find 
dignified and queenly in deportment, receive their gross and 
disgusting badinage with a simper and toss of the head, and 
replying in the all too common slang, " Oh, get out!" " None 
of your nonsense!" "Shut up now! 11 This is no exagger- 
ation, and those who allow such low familiarities are wives 
and mothers who will tell you that they do not care for balls, 
have no taste for parties, but deny themselves to chaperon 
their daughters. " Chaperon, — to attend, to protect in pub- 
lic 4 " is Webster's definition of that word. What hopes for 
the future .can we have for daughters thus protected? All 
the delicacy and sweetness of fresh, modest girlhood must 
wither in such an atmosphere. 

In young men and maidens, loud talking and boisterous 
laughter, emphasized by coarse expletives that were once 
never known out of the stable, race-course, or gambling den, 
or among the coarse, untutored gamins of the streets, now 
pass unnoticed or unrebuked at the table, in the drawing-room 
or stylish entertainment. Fulsome compliments, uttered in 
the free and easy tones that a genuine lady would resent as an 
insult, are often answered by rude raillery and repartee, in 
quite unlike the gentle and refined tones that one expects to 
hear from rosy lips. 

If, " as guard and protector," a mother take her daughters 
into the bewitching circles of fashionable society and in their 
presence accept frivolous speeches and rude familiarities, with 
no sign of reproof or disapprobation, but encourage such famil- 
iarities bv replying in the same tone, like a hoydenish girl, can 
she expect that they will demean themselves with such dignity 
and refinement that no man will dare approach them but with 
respect and reverence? Can she be surprised if her sons and 



TO- DA Y AND FIFTY YEARS AGO. 



265 



daughters develope the same offensive and reprehensible habits 
which they have seen her practice, and "with additions strange." 

We trust we will not be understood to imply that all in 
fashionable society are so forgetful of the beauty and refine- 
ment of cultivated manners, particularly as the symbol of the 
purest womanhood. Oh, no! Far from that! There are 
many bright and shining lights among those who move in the 
most brilliant society, and it is to that class we must turn for 
help to counteract the influence of those less careful of their 
words and actions. 

Possibly all do not realize how much of the future happiness 
and usefulness of their children must depend upon the example 
of their parents, particularly of their mothers, whom they 
so readily and instinctively copy; but, however perfect, the 
teaching of the mothers may be sadly weakened or destroyed, 
if they do not scrupulously shield their children from the con- 
taminating influence of those of their age and station who are 
allowed unrestrained license in word and deed. We see, with 
great pain, how slang phrases are taking root and are in 
habitual use among the young of both sexes, even with those 
whose- fine educational advantages should have taught the 
great vulgarity of such expressions. It is singular how 
quickly the young are fascinated by this pernicious habit, and 
how eager they treasure up and seek occasions to use these 
rude phrases; how soon our girls and boys, our young men 
and maidens incorporate them into their general conversation. 
With girls, this habit may be expected to develop and foster 
other unfeminine traits. 

It is a source of deep regret to see young ladies (?) in the 
streets, in the stores, or standing on the sidewalks, imitate the 
unrefined, swaggering manners of fast young men, instead 
of the dignified, lady-like carriage that is always regarded as 
indicative of really good breeding, a sure token of true refine- 



266 



YOU AND I. 



ment and innate modesty. If young ladies walk the streets 
with masculine strides, hands thrust into the pockets of their 
ulsters, the "Derby 1 ' tipped to one side, too like the hilarious, 
half tipsy young man across the way, talking and laughing 
loudly as they pass from one store to the next, can they blame 
the poor, ragged gamins if they mark them as lawful victims 
for their rude jests and ribaldry? If the elder members of a 
family indulge in this free and easy manner and are not choice 
in their language, the little ones, whose prattle should be as 
gentle as the birds', will inevitably imitate. Instead of the 
respectful morning greeting, we now too often hear those apt 
imitators, even before they are able to speak plainly, burst 
into a room exclaiming, "Halloo, papa! Halloo, mamma!" 
In their childish play, in the streets, the bad example of older 
brothers and sisters follows them, and children of the most 
reputable parents will accost those who pass with jeers and 
rude language. Parents who do not take the trouble to pro- 
tect their children from these pernicious influences would be 
grieviously mortified could they see to whom their little ones 
address these rude expressions when allowed to play in the 
streets, out from their sight. 

This evil is becoming very common, and no efforts appear 
to be made to stay its progress. If there were any sense in 
the strange adjectives thus employed, one might look at the 
increase of the evil with more patience, but there is neither 
rhyme nor reason in any of it, and very seldom any suspicion 
of wit or humor; one must be poorly supplied with wit if he 
can manage to find it here. 

Not long since, two charming young ladies met at a store, 
one entering, the other leaving it, and this was their elegant 
greeting: "Halloo! who dug you up this stormy day?" 
"And the same to you, goosey! but I'm not easily squelched 
by a little rain; it takes more than that to make me squeal, 



TO-DA Y AND FIFTY YFARS AGO. 



267 



you bet!" "Oh, get out! we all know you are a brick. But 
say, did you suppose you should meet any of the dudes, eh!" 
and, giving her friend a slap on the shoulder, as one rude boy 
might give another, she passed on. It is by no means agree- 
able to see reputable young men indulge in rakish manners, 
even when by themselves, and far worse, if before ladies. 
But how can we respect young ladies who try to imitate 
them? We look to them for sweetness and delicacy, and 
to find the reverse is humiliating and painful. 

It is difficult to account for the seductive fascination so 
many people find in such rude language, and particularly the 
young, unbalanced mind; but of its effect on all the best 
impulses of the mind, and that it relaxes moral dignity, even 
if it lead to nothing worse, there can be no doubt. It is an 
evil that weakens the inborn delicacy of the young as well as 
the old; when first heard it is repulsive, but, like sin, each 
time it is heard and as the mind becomes more familiar with 
the words, " we first endure, then pity, then embrace." 

Boys are more liable to come under the influence of unruly, 
vulgar associates, and therefore in more danger of contracting 
bad habits, than their sisters, who are, or used to be, less on 
the streets and more constantly under the mother's influence; 
therefore, young lads are more in danger of contracting bad 
habits before their parents suspect it. They are easy victims 
when temptations are not at once repelled by home influences. 
If they venture to soil their lips with low and vulgar talk, it 
will be found that profanity is lurking near to entrap the 
unwary. Girls seldom learn to use profane language, at least 
girls with any claims to respectability, but many of the un- 
couth, unladylike expressions, now unhappily so common, and 
in which they are tempted to indulge, often savor very 
strongly of profanity. If home influences are not strong 
enough to restrain or correct this, how can we avoid thinking 



268 



YOU AND I. 



that their mothers do not realize the priceless treasures God 
has committed to their charge and are not guarding their 
jewels as they should feel bound to do. 

It is said that sisters contract these unwomanly habits from 
their brothers' example; in part, it may be so, but this is given 
more by way of excuse than from general fact. Sisters were 
sent to refine, soften and beautify the coarser natures of their 
brothers, and how much to be lamented it will be if they 
stoop to imitate the ruder natures of these brothers, instead of 
fulfilling their mission by showing them how easy it is to 
become graceful, dignified and refined, in word and act. 
The same general rules and cautions by which we strive to 
educate our girls into the higher types of true ladies will, like- 
wise, if followed, enable our boys to become true gentlemen, 

A perfect gentleman holds a true lady in high estimation, 
and they may be on the most intimate and friendly terms, but 
he at once sinks below that standard if, for an instant, he takes 
advantage of that friendship to utter a rude, careless word in 
her presence, or is guilty of a coarse, unmanly act. No lady 
will, for an instant, brook such an insult. But, as every lady 
has the power to fix the metes and bounds of the liberty or 
familiarity a friend may take, he must have an element of 
evil that has not been suspected, or she is lacking in true 
womanly instinct, if any disturbance occur. 

Much of the old regime we have no wish to recall, for in 
most things we have advanced to a better and a higher state. 
But, toning down somewhat of the stiffness and exaggeration 
noticeable in the manners of our ancestors, it would, indeed, 
be refreshing to see again the modest deportment which 
taught the gentlemen of the old school a reverent and defer- 
ential bearing in the presence of ladies. 



COMMERCIAL VALUE OF GOOD 
BREEDING- 



BY 



REY. CHARLES O. REILL Y, D.D. 




HAT it costs nothing to be civil, is an 
adage so old and so universally ac- 
cepted that it would be difficult to 
fix the exact proportion of its re- 
sponsibility for the too prevalent 
impression that it is worth nothing 
to be civil. 

Of course, the intrinsic worth of 
that qualification which makes men 
mindful of the sensibilities of others 
on all occasions, is in no wise called 
in question. No one would be found to dispute the supe- 
rior excellence of the soul amply endowed with such an 
estimable disposition, as compared with the mind quite desti- 
tute of its instincts, None of us envy the mental structure 
of the man who is habitually disposed to disregard the feel- 
ings of those with whom he comes in contact. It goes with 
out saying, that a habit of politeness is incomparably supe- 
rior to rudeness of demeanor, intrinsically estimated, nor does 
the adage referred to compromise more than the commercial 
value of good manners. 

269 



270 



YOU AND I. 



A few words on this particular phase of the general sub- 
ject of good breeding may not be without their use to Amer- 
ican readers, as we pride ourselves on being a practical peo- 
ple, and rarely, if ever, deny what is attributed to us as a 
national characteristic, viz: a disposition to reduce all factors 
to a denomination of dollars and cents. It is, moreover, unde- 
niable that a certain eccentricity of demeanor, not infrequently 
carried to the borders of brutality, has attempted to obtain a 
professional recognition, and, as a fact, is not without its mar- 
ket value in our somewhat undeveloped civilization. The 
bullying barrister, "the rough old doctor," the impatient and 
unsympathetic preacher, possess for some minds an attraction 
which, although inexplicable, is not always unprofitable. The 
attorney who treats his client like a convict, for this does not 
always lose him. The physician who informs the patient's 

nervous husband that, " I don't care a if your wife does 

die before I get there," is not infrequently the one for whom 
people will wait all day. 

The story is told of a Scotch divine, who convinced his 
hypercritical congregation of his entire orthodoxy and spiritual 
power, on occasion of his first sermon, by impatiently inter- 
rupting himself in the midst of his discourse, and imperiously 
ordering the sexton to " shut the doore." Those who were 
incapable of discerning the nice points of his doctrine were 
not left in darkness concerning his character. He " wor 
bonny on the doore " — positive enough, to be sure, for pre- 
destination ante praevisa merita. A reason can be given for 
everything, and the notion that any one, not endowed with 
very superior ability, would not dare to so indulge the common 
humors of mankind, is one to take possession of an irreflective 
mind — and an irreflective mind only. A want of ordinary 
self-restraint is a curious argument of superior education. 
Although strong-minded men have, here and there, attained 



COMMERCIAL VALUE OF GOOD BREEDING. 



271 



eminence and a fair proportion of success, despite the disad- 
vantages of unruly dispositions ; yet may it be doubted if such 
instances are sufficiently numerous to render affectation in 
this direction at all dangerous. This much is certain, that 
whatever superstitious regard may have attached to rudeness 
in the past, its influence, as a commercial factor, is perceptibly 
diminishing as civilization continues to advance, and the rules 
of good breeding are brought into more general application. 
The class of people who were accustomed to accept it as a 
certificate of superior worth, or at least as an evidence of 
extraordinary honesty, is becoming comparatively small, and 
the marks of good breeding are now generally looked for to 
betoken the mental discipline of the proper professional man. 
The impression that rudeness should afford an evidence of 
honesty, is no less grotesque than the notion that would make 
it an index of intellectual superiority. The French, whose 
civilization is certainly in a more advanced stage than ours, 
entertain the correct idea of polite manners, for they call an 
honest man and a civil man by the same name — honnete 
homme. 

No charlatanism can be conceived, at once so outrageous 
and contemptible, as the premeditated assumption of rude 
manners. Every gentleman owes to himself and to society 
the duty of denying, at the outset, that any good intention 
can be masked by the manners of a thug. 

" But it is not enough not to be rude," says Chesterfield, 
" you should be extremely civil * * * and, depend upon 
it, your reputation and success in the world will, in a great 
measure, depend upon the degree of good breeding you are 
master of." This great master of sentences of civil life, has 
left us the draft of a definition of good breeding, in which it is 
to be regretted that he seems to have classed the essential 
quite as an accidental element of the qualification, without 



272 



you- AND I. 



which he declares that " all the talents in the world will want 
all their lustre and some part of their use, too. 11 He defines 
good-breeding to be the u the result of much good sense, some 
good nature, and a little self-denial for the sake of others, 
with a view to obtain the same indulgence from them:'' 

Now, if we consider man as an individual, we cannot but 
recognize that he has been peculiarly constituted with a view 
to the preservation of himself and the promotion of his own 
interests. Physiologically, his activities and passions, appetites 
and instincts have been exclusively ordered to the accretion 
of his own conveniences. They go out from and return to 
a common centre, the core of which is self, and ever appear to 
us on that one peculiar errand bent — the gratification of 
physical propensities. The same conclusion is arrived at from 
a consideration of his psychological being, so that only the last 
clause of the definition, viz: — "with a view to obtain the same 
indulgence from others," — saves it from a denial ; and, inas- 
much as this " view " — which is likewise conceded to be self- 
ish — is induced from an experience with tk others," it must be 
attributable to education, and we are therefore forced to the 
reflection that man, in so far as he is a well-bred, is essentially 
a self-restrained creature. What is the commercial value of 
this self-restraint? Is it difficult of attainment? Is it worth 
the price demanded ? As an answer to the query touching its 
attainment, we cannot do better than quote the illustrious 
author on etiquette, already referred to. He says: "I hardly 
know anything so difficult to attain, or so necessary to 
possess, as perfect good breeding." 

The question of its commercial value must be approached 
from an a priori consideration of the subject, and thus 
viewed, it seems to present two distinct phases of computa- 
tion — a negative and a -positive one, — upon each of which 
let us hazard a few reflections, with the hope that they 



COMMERCIAL VALUE OF GOOD BREEDING. 



273 



may prove conducive to a more deliberate examination of 
the subject, on the part of those who may be immediately 
concerned in it. 

Its negative value, then, we derive directly from what it is 
in itself, viz: a habit of self-restraint. Good breeding is self- 
restraint made easy by frequent repetitions of the actions 
that call it into exercise. This consideration of the subject 
immediately introduces into it all the calculations of that 
peculiarly valuable economy which is born of good breeding. 
Now, it is patent that good breeding is the mother of good 
taste; and, consequently, to this first consideration of the sub- 
ject, belongs the estimate of the incalculable change which 
good taste, universally established, would work in the com- 
mercial world — the elimination of all useless extravagance. 
For, that all such extravagance is in bad taste, requires no 
demonstration. There is no keener contrast between well-bred 
and ill-bred people than is observable in the administration of 
money. Self-restriction induces that decorous economy which 
all sensible and well-bred people commend in the man of 
means. It gives a caste of modesty to his conduct, which 
at once suggests his good judgment, and convinces us of his 
native dignity; whereas, wasteful habits furnish undeniable 
evidences of an undisciplined mind. There is hardly a vul- 
garity that offends so pungently our sense of propriety as 
that which manifests itself in the prodigal expenditure of 
recently acquired wealth. To discuss the difference between 
such habits, from a commercial stand-point, would necessitate 
a treatise upon the pecuniary advantages of becoming econ- 
omy. For economy carried to the extreme of parsimony is 
an evidence of defective education no less than is reckless 
profusion. Of the two, the penurious propensity were to be 
preferred, as being the more easily corrected. It is the effect 
of discipline not fairly tempered by discretion, whilst prodi- 

18 



274 



YOU AND I. 



gality proceeds from instincts untutored by education. Ill- 
bred and ignorant people may present examples of marvelous 
endurance under compulsion, but they seldom, in their habits, 
give evidences of self-restraint. Suffering sustained, and pri- 
vation self imposed, are very different things, the one being 
indicative of only passive potentialities, and the other betok- 
ening a command over active energies. The commercial 
value of such command will be exactly proportioned to the 
sphere in which it is exercised and the time it is continued in 
operation. It enables the individual to regulate the expendi- 
tures of every-day life by a rule of good sense, which cer- 
tainly takes into account a tasteful provision for the future. 
A well-bred man will be a provident man, for he will avoid 
giving to society, which he reveres, the offense that poverty is 
to our civilization. A prudent economy, exercised through 
an entire life, will afford a competency at its close. Indi- 
gence, on its face, is accepted as an evidence of ill-breeding, 
because it is suggestive of some prior improvidence. This, 
after all, is the hard feature of poverty. The privation it 
imposes — considering how little man absolutely needs — is of 
comparatively trivial account. But it makes against him a 
prima facie case of improvidence, convicts him thereby of 
being ill-bred and turns him into ridicule. It is hard to be 
poor only because it makes a man ridiculous. It is a piece 
of bad behaviour which society requites with a supercilious 
compassion. Any breeding, in our day, which did not con- 
template the avoidance of poverty, would universally be pro- 
nounced unqualifiedly bad. To be improvidently poor, is, in 
the light of our civilization, to say the least of it, in very bad 
taste. With this admitted, we must leave every one to 
determine, each for himself, the commercial value of the com- 
modity which precludes such improvidence. 

Coming, then, to a consideration of the positive value of 



COMMERCIAL VALUE OF GOOD BREEDING. 



575 



good breeding, from a commercial standpoint, we have to dis- 
tinguish between the indirect and direct influence it exerts 
upon success. It is said that few men are the architects of 
their own good fortunes; a thing to awaken less surprise the 
more we reflect that comparatively few of those who have 
accumulated fortunes, have the correct knowledge of where 
their success in life really came from. In this field of 
unknown quantities the indirect influence of good breeding 
could scarcely be over-estimated. 

Many a millionaire is indebted to a civil demeanor for his 
first vantage ground on the slope of financial fame. Many a 
great lawyer owes his extensive clientage more to a court- 
eous address than to great talents. Many a successful practi- 
tioner has won his way into the palatial residences of the rich 
by commendations of the poor whom his deportment had favor- 
ably impressed. Most of these, I mean to claim, are wholly 
ignorant of the true source of their own success; nay, such is 
the nature of good breeding that, save by accident, its 
possessor remains quite unconscious of the advantage it con- 
fers. So much more the value of it, since it is owned 
without anxiety, and does its work incessantly. Shiel 
relates how, after a brilliant debut at the bar, he fell entirely 
out of notice as a barrister, and after years of ceaseless effort 
was reduced to the verge of despair, when, on attending a 
party one evening, to which he had actually been forced by a 
friend, he had the good fortune to be obliged to do the agree- 
able to somebody's daughter or somebody's niece, and next 
morning received his first brief. He facetiously styles the in- 
cident "dancing into practice," but, all the same, his agree- 
able manners at a party effected more for him than the 
encomium of O'Connell, delivered in his favor at the Four 
Courts. To enter upon an enumeration of incidents illustra- 
tive of this point of the subject, would be a task of despair, 



276 



YOU AND I. 



and this all the more, as, however many and striking examples 
we might take in, there would still be ample reason to more 
than suspect that the most striking and most numerous were 
still left out. Chesterfield roundly informs his son that he 
may as well despair, at once, of success at court unless he is 
gracious and polite to every scullion he passes in the halls or 
on the stairs, since each has influence some place, and it 
requires so little ability to inflict an injury. Now, it is need- 
less to deduce the reflection that Life is a great court, and 
success the embassy of all who frequent it; needless, too, it is, 
to add that in view of the number and nature of the unavoid- 
able obstacles that guard the audience-chamber, few, if any, 
can afford the gratuitous ill-will of the fifth groom's dog that 
is chained in the stable-yard. The suggestion that this con- 
sideration of the indirect influence of good breeding upon 
success in life makes it burdensome, because it extends to so 
man) 7 , :s superficial and altogether at issue with the question; 
for good breeding comprehends all persons and acommodates 
itself to all classes. Its manifest is due no less to one than 
another, and each will take care to repay it in kind. There 
is no situation conceivable in which it is not one's interest, by 
his own good breeding, to secure a return to himself of the 
same commodity from others; for, people will repay, and 
with interest, too, inattention with inattention, neglect with 
neglect, and ill-manners with worse, — which will engage one 
in very disagreeable affairs; as men sooner forget a gross 
injury than a considerable affront; and what wounds human 
vanity is seldom made venial out of want of appreciation on 
the part of the recipient. But it is the direct influence of 
good breeding upon success which, of course, makes up most 
of its commercial value. Utility introduced good breeding 
as much as it introduced commerce. It is little else than a 
eommerce of conveniences, in the interchange of which each> 



COMMERCIAL VALUE OF GOOD BREEDING. 



277 



upon the whole, finds his account. It is a great mistake to 
consider good breeding exclusively designed for company. A 
man who is ill-bred is quite as unfit for business as he is for 
company. Good breeding alone gives that ease and freedom, 
and imparts that graceful and proper assurance, which are the 
prerequisites to success in any line of business. Think of a 
man who cannot approach another in a natural and easy man- 
ner; who cannot address himself to others without manifest 
embarrassment; who is immediately ashamed in the presence 
of people of superior attainments; who does not know how to 
express what he wants; who is disconcerted when addressed 
and at once goes out of countenance for a sense of his own 
deficiences, — and what will you do with such a one? Urge 
that he has sense, learning, and talent, and so much more the 
shame; for good breeding is the peculiar ability he wants in 
order to be able to turn his talents to any account. Life is 
too short to afford opportunity to try and to find out individual 
character; your entree must depend not so much upon what 
you are as upon what you appear to be. We have not the 
paucity of population of the times cf the patriarchs, that 
made individual comparison a possibility, nor their longevity 
that allowed of ages of personal experiment. This is a multi- 
tudinous generation and a hustling age, and cursory observa- 
tion is all that any one can claim from the vast majority of 
those with whom he comes in contact. This is by no means 
intended to read to the detriment of enduring talent; I would 
be very sorry to be so far misunderstood as to seem to cast 
discredit, in ever so little, upon the necessity of solid attain- 
ments for ultimate success in business. It is only saying that 
the penetration of the multitude seldom goes deeper than the 
surface. Men, in general, must be engaged by a surface 
presentation. All can see, few can weigh, even of those who 
have the time and disposition to do so. Where prejudices 



278 



YOU AND I. 



are to be disarmed or affections enlisted, it is luster, not solid- 
ity, that must make the first overtures; but then intrinsic 
worth and substantial attainments must immediately move 
up, and support and secure what good breeding has acquired. 
And to this suggestion, too much importance cannot be 
attached. For, to disappoint, is to outrage; and the every- 
day experience of the world will amply attest that there is 
nothing for which a man is more liable to be over-punished 
than for the unpardonable offense of having been over-esti- 
mated. Saying that Doric decoration is best designed to 
engage the idle eye in observation of your architecture, is not 
gainsaying the necessity of Tuscan solidity in wall and found- 
ation to sustain the inspection thus induced. So, too, assert- 
ing that good-breeding, an easy, engaging manner, an insin- 
uating address, are absolutely necessary to secure a considera- 
tion of your intrinsic worth, far from intimating that more 
solid attainments may be dispensed with, presupposes you 
possessed of them. Learning, honor and virtue are indis- 
pensable, if you would retain the esteem your good breeding 
has enlisted ; but it is the latter which must still be detailed for 
the recruiting service required for your success. It is not too 
much to say that good breeding is half of any man's business 
training; for in whatever walk of life he finds himself, the utility 
of his talents will still, in a great measure, depend upon it. 
Learning, without it, is unwelcome and tiresome, and of use 
nowhere but in a man's closet — which is equivalent to saying, 
of no use at all. High station, without it, is simply grotesque; 
and the higher the station the more uncomfortable an object to 
contemplate is the ill-bred occupant. Wealth, without good 
breeding, suggests the idea of a raid upon the providence that 
is held responsible for a misappropriation of the benefits it has 
lavished upon a boor. The losses it compels are simply 
incalculable, inasmuch as the wealthy man who wants educa- 



COMMERCIAL VALUE OF GOOD BREEDING. 



279 



tion feels constantly obliged to make compensation therefor, 
and has no other resource to draw upon than his pregnant 
purse. He must buy that toleration in society to which his 
manners do not entitle him, and " society, 7 ' long accustomed 
to this social phenomenon, has engendered a fatal familiarity 
with the levy of fines that rightly belong to it. A subscrip- 
tion is required for some social event: " Oh, there's Mr. ; 

he must give." An entertainment is to be devised demand- 
ing an extraordinary outlay on the part of some of the 

projectors? Mr. is just the man. Mr. is worked 

in. Mr. is walked through. Mr. is made miser- 
able, and pays the bills with a sigh of relief that the 

nonsense is over. Speaking seriously, the man of wealth, 

unaccustomed to the ways of " society," undertakes an expen- 
sive experiment in entering 'it at all. 

It is rather an argument of innate good breeding and a vin- 
dication of good taste in men of this prosperous class, when 
they decline the proffered patronage of a society that cannot 
regard them but with ill-concealed disdain. Next to a thor- 
ough conversation with society life, we admire the sturdy 
independence that refuses to ape its formalities or accept its 
constraints. .But, quid ad rem? Certainly for such as are 
disposed to court the mystic circle of all-elegant littleness, 
politeness possesses an incalculable commercial advantage. 
You have never duplicated a pleasure-trip to any part of the 
country without discovering that your inexperience and igno- 
rance of the route and location and customs of the place had 
cost you disproportionately, both in money and comfort, on 
the occasion of your first visit. So it is with " society It will 
cost the man who is unfamiliar with its workings indefinitely 
more than the one who "is native and to the manner born." 
Add to this the consideration that its " ways are so dark " 
and its " tricks are so vain " that, unless its " habit " is 



280 



YOU AND I. 



acquired while young, it is never quite easy — and each can 
determine for himself whether, from a commercial stand-point, 
politeness is worth the price that undeniably has to be paid 
for it. To enter upon an enumeration of the eminent men 
whose lasting success in life has seemed a happy reflex of the 
first favor their manners had secured, would be an endless 
task, nor are we sure that it would exclusively serve the 
object of this article, viz: to set forth the commercial value of 
good breeding, since, in every such instance, the external 
deportment has been efficiently supported by more substantial 
ability. The truth is, that excellent behavior should be joined 
with deep learning, and is almost as necessary. They should 
ever accompany each other for their mutual advantage. For 
mere learning without good breeding is pedantry, and good 
breeding without learning is frivolity; whereas learning adds 
solidity to good breeding, and good breeding gives charms 
and graces to learning. It is a subject of considerable doubt 
with us, if sufficient attention is given to this rare qualification 
in our universities and other seats of learning. It is here, 
especially, its knowledge should be inculcated and its maxims 
made operative; since, if acquired young, the cost is imma- 
terial, and it will, moreover, always last and be habitual — 
the only good breeding, let us say in conclusion, which is 
effectively felt and proves perseveringly profitable. 



IS 

PART SECOND. 

SOCIAL CULTURE. 



0, 



Mr 



SOCIAL CULTURE. 



BY 

ALICE E. IVES. 




H E power of manner is incessant — an 
element as inconcealable as fire," 
writes Emerson, and who is there that 
shall gainsay him. One may success- 
fully hide his meanness, envy, hatred 
and all uncharitableness, but he can not cover from the light of 
day his' manners. These shall always exalt or betray him, 
and he who runs may read. Let us have truth, sincerity, 
heroism, but let us also have good manners. The gifted men 
and women who in the preceding pages have taught us the 
value of character, moral and intellectual culture, self-reliance, 
unselfishness, kindness and sympathy, have raised on strong 
foundations a noble temple; but shall not the temple be swept, 
and garnished, and adorned, as fits its great proportions? 
Aye, truly, else it does not invite us to enter in and enjoy. A 
man of education, strong character, and Christian virtues, hav- 
ing the manners of good society, is a power in the world; his 
eloquence shall persuade thousands. But, though one have the 

283 



234: 



SOCIAL CULTURE. 



virtues of St. Peter, and shall repel by his behavior, his influ- 
ence will be narrow and his friends few. 

True, some great men have been ill-mannered, but not one 
in ten thousand is great. Much is excused of genius because 
of its exceeding rarity. Diogenes and Dr. Johnson were 
notably ill-bred; and very possibly the latter might, in these 
days, still put his tea spoon into the sugar-bowl and be forgiven 
for the sake of his great attainments, but it is not at all prob- 
able that the illustrious cynic would be allowed to flash his 
lantern in people's faces many days outside of a lunatic asylum. 

" Euripides, " writes Aspasia, " has not the fine manners of 
Sophocles; but the movers and masters of our souls have 
surely a right to throw out their limbs as carelessly as they 
please on the world that belongs to them, and before the 
creatures they have animated.'" 

It is best first to be sure that you have created a world, 
before you can afford to take liberties with it. Just so high 
as you make people reach to overlook your short-comings, 
must you rise to pay them for their trouble. The thing must 
be balanced somewhere; no one will put himself in the way 
of an annoyance unless he is sure of a greater good with it. 
And even supposing you are entirely forgiven, there is always 
some one to speak of having seen the score, even after it has 
been erased for years. It would have been better, even if you 
are great, not to have done a very uncouth thing, or spoken 
a rude word. 

We hear, every few days, of certain intolerant remarks and 
surly actions told to the discredit, and, in the eyes of some, 
even to the dimming of the fame, of one of the most original, 
profound and celestial lighted minds the world has ever 
known — Thomas Carlyle ; and we who bow before his genius 
can only sorrow in our hearts that this blot was upon him, and 
that the world must be ever pointing its finger to that which 



YOU AND I. 



285 



was earthly, to the forgetting of that which was heavenly and 
of God. 

It is true that the man of base aims and immoral character 
can so envelope himself in the mantle of good breeding that 
you shall receive him into your house, and at your table. But 
will he become your friend? No, for a revelation is speedily 
at hand. The garment he wears is thin, and there are always 
times coming when its poor quality will be unexpectedly tried. 
Some sudden contact or collision causes it to suffer a bad rent, 
and behold, there is, underneath, the teeth of a cur, or the 
leer of a demon. 

While the Christian virtues are undoubtedly the best foun- 
dation for that fine structure called a gentleman, it is also a 
well-known fact that people of the best intentions in the world, 
by ignorance of social usages, or carelessness of certain forms, 
make themselves decidedly obnoxious to those who are so 
much accustomed to the atmosphere of good breeding that a 
blast of boorishness strikes them like being caught in an east 
wind without an overcoat. Even the strong and sturdy Con- 
cord philosopher says: "I could better eat with one who did 
not respect the truth or the laws, than with a sloven and 
unpresentable person. Moral qualities rule the world, but at 
a short distance the senses are despotic." And this is the 
language of a man who was one of the most thorough 
respecters of truth and the laws this country has ever known; 
but it is also that of a refined, sensitive nature, that feels the 
contact of anything which is unlovely, unfitting or gross, with a 
sort of pain, of which the coarse-fibred are forever unconscious. 

Fine perceptions and tastes are a source of much happiness 
to their possessor, but the law of compensation is severe; if 
you enjoy, you pay. If you are strung up to this fine pitch, 
you require others to be in accord, or else harmony is at once 
destroyed. It is upon this rule that the different strata of 



286 



SOCIAL CULTURE. 



society are formed. Do you say it is wealth and poverty that 
make the distinctions of society? I answer they are indeed 
strong, but not so strong as manners. These are the sieves 
that sift and grade humanity most thoroughly. Is the refined 
man happy in the society of the coarse, or the vulgar man 
comfortable in the company of the elegant? But if he be not 
vulgar or coarse in the inmost fibres of his nature, he will 
easily shake off the mire with which a long association with 
boors has covered him, and take on the graces of more con- 
siderate men. 

The densely ignorant are sure to ridicule or despise that 
which they do not understand. The man whom a back- 
woodsman should catch reciting a Greek tragedy, would 
doubtless be dubbed by the latter a gibbering idiot; and the 
one who should be seen taking off his hat to a woman would 
be a proper object of scorn to those who were above such fop- 
pish trifling. In fact, in some sections the individual who 
regards his ringer nails or his linen is one whom the entire 
community consider it their particular duty to chastise and 
reform. To the ancient Greeks all foreign nations were bar- 
barians; and even to-day, in the great civilization of the nine- 
teenth century, there are still those to whom the man with 
strange dress or habits is either a barbarian or a fool. 

To him who knows no other etiquette than that of the 
mines or lumber camp, and whose strength of muscle must 
gain for him those rights which are the every-day currency of 
the polite man, given and taken as naturally as he eats, the 
customs and observances of the latter are the natural targets 
for derision. 

Some one tells a story of a backwoodsman who stood look- 
ing over the shoulder of a stranger, who was reading a letter 
he had just taken from the country post office. The latter 
glanced up once or twice m an annoyed manner, and, as the 



YOU AND L 



287 



intruder seemed to take no notice of the gesture, moved away 
with still stronger marks of disapproval; whereat the rustic 
exclaimed: " Wal, ye needn't be so stuck up, if ye hev got 
a letter." 

To such a man the refinements of polite society were a 
dead language to which he had no key. The reasons and 
motives for certain usages, he had never thought upon. He 
would doubtless put his spoon, fork or knife into the dish from 
which you were to be helped, hand bread to you with his 
ringers, or come into your private room without the formality 
of knocking. He would argue that what was good enough 
for him, was good for you; but there would, after all, come 
times in his experience, when the aggressions of some one of 
his fellows would become too much for even his callous temper- 
ament ; and there must be heroic treatment for a disease allowed 
to gain such terrible headway. Fisticuffs and knives, and the 
whole settlement torn up into rival factions, is the result, when 
a little understanding of the common courtesies of daily inter- 
course would have prevented it all, and made life easier every 
hour. It has been most truly said: " Manners aim to facilitate 
life, to get rid of impediments, and bring the man pure to 
energize. They aid our dealing and conversation, as a railway 
aids travelling by getting rid of all avoidable obstructions of 
the road, and leaving nothing to be conquered but pure space." 

To the uncultivated but sensitive man, fine manners seem 
either the gift of the gods or an unsurmountable science of 
which he can never become the master. Let him once see 
that it is all made up of trifles which he can command by tak- 
ing care, and caring to know; let him once understand that it 
is eternal vigilance over the liberties and rights of others, and 
unceasing abnegation of self; and, if he is willing to put him- 
self under a strict course of silent instruction, and has even an 
ordinary capacity for remembering, he will, at the end of a 



288 



SOCIAL CULTURE. 



year, be a reasonably well-bred man; at least he need no longer 
fear that he will be called ill-mannered. 

Once within the circle of the initiated, he shall find himself 
" in a more transparent atmosphere, wherein life is a less 
troublesome game, and not a misunderstanding rises among 
the players.'" 

Equality is a necessity of cultured intercourse. Unless a 
man's appearance or address at once proclaim him very much 
your inferior, you have no right to think him such; neither 
should outward show establish for you the fact of his superior- 
ity. We have little patience with one who, in a continual 
perspiration of apology, seems to imply that we want his 
heart's blood; or with the domineering individual, who 
apparently considers us his born thrall and slave. If you 
become convinced that one is greatly your superior, at least 
do not widen the chasm between you by being anything less 
than a man ; you can meet him on that footing, if you are true 
and honorable and worthy of the name. The real gentleman 
dislikes nothing so much as to have the fact of his superiority 
thrust servilely before him. If you are convinced of another's 
inferiority, shun him, rather than lower yourself by tyrannizing 
over him. 

If morals influence manners, manners also influence morals. 
In the last century, when etiquette permitted at the table the 
drinking of wine until the guests slid from their seats under 
the festive board, and women and men interlarded their con- 
versation with language not only vulgar but profane, the 
morals of society were a match for the manners. We may 
turn with disgust from the works of Congreve or Wycherly, 
but we must remember that the dramatists but recorded the 
social life of their times. The people who permitted and 
encouraged coarse vulgarity in their drawing-rooms were not 
to be shocked by the same thing on the stage. Neither would 



YOU AND I. 



289 



they have been interested, satisfied or amused by a less fam- 
iliar and rankly flavored picture of social life than that to 
which they had become accustomed. What was an every- 
day occurrence in society of the upper strata in those days, 
would, in these, be apt to offend a whole community. Not 
only were their manners but their morals worse than ours. 

Says George Macdonald : " There is one show of breeding 
vulgarity never assumes — simplicity. " Nothing could be 
truer than this, because simplicity is in itself a necessity of 
good manners. The person who in any way seeks to impress 
you with the importance of his social position, at once leads 
you to suspect that he has not long enjoyed the elevation, that 
it is very much on his mind, and that, like a boy with a pair 
of new boots, while his elation is very visible, you are quite 
sure they are pinching him somewhere. Pomposity overawes 
only the vulgar or shallow; it amuses or disgusts the sensible 
or well-bred. " Polite behavior and a refined address," says 
Sir Joshua Reynolds, " like good pictures, make the least show 
to ordinary eyes.' 1 Those who, by inheritance or circumstances, 
have always been thrown among fine-mannered people, and 
who, having this for daily diet, are instinctively well-behaved, 
know nothing of the hard and troublesome responsibility of 
those who are obliged to be continually on parade duty, lest 
each new comer be not duly impressed with the number and 
superiority of their forces. The well-bred man wears his fine 
manners as one wears an easy garment, without thinking of it- 
Emerson has most gracefully expressed the delicate texture 
of this gift of Olympus, when he says: "I think Hans Ander- 
sen's story of the cobweb cloth woven so fine that it was invis- 
ible, — woven for the king's garment, — must mean manners, 
which do really clothe a princely nature." 

Dignity is also a necessary element of good breeding, and 
should not be confounded, as it is by many, with stiffness or 
19 



290 



SOCIAL CULTURE. 



pomposity. A dignified person is not necessarily hard to 
approach. To be sure he makes it a little difficult to offer him 
an intrusive familiarity, but he does not make it hard to ask 
of him a kindness. He hedges himself about with a sort of 
palisade that is the terror of social tramps and marauders, but 
there is always an entrance where the latch-string is hung out 
for a friend or equal. The latter does not refer to birth, 
wealth or station; the finely-bred man recognizes higher dis- 
tinctions than these; his equal is the individual whose manners 
approach him with the royal pass-word of Arthur's court ; his 
friend is the one whose heart and soul are worthy of their fine 
exterior. Aggressive, loud-mouthed riches or social standing 
may storm the palisade as persistently as they will, there is 
ever in the quiet dignity of the person not to be approached a 
still, small voice which they can not hear for their noise, but 
which is yet ever saying: " There can be nothing between 
thee and me. 11 

The person who has dignity will excite respect; but the one 
who unites with dignity a ready sympathy will be sure of love 
also. No man is entirely sufficent unto himself alone; he 
finds a deep satisfaction — sometimes even a necessity — in 
sharing his thought, his doubt, his aim or his inspiration with 
another. What then if his idea find no response, and he has 
beaten his heart against a stone wall ; will he again come there 
for comfort? No, he will as quickly seek a friend in the north 
wind. There are times when we like to watch the antics of 
the polar winds; they amuse us, and we may even let them 
blow in our faces, but we do not open our hearts to their cold 
blasts. And so with unsympathetic or selfishly preoccupied 
people, they may interest or amuse us, but they do not reach 
our hearts. We will keep that for those who want it, and will 
be more tender of it. " It is good to give a stranger a meal 



YOU AND I. 



291 



or a night's lodging. It is better to be hospitable to his good 
meaning and thought, and give courage to a companion.''' 

Even a cynic, who distrusts, or pretends to distrust, all 
humankind, still wishes to be liked. He may say that the 
latter is quite immaterial to him, that he shall not trouble him- 
self about the impression he makes, but will he go where it is 
very plain to him that he is disliked? No; and though he slap 
society on the right cheek, he expects it to go on turning unto 
him the other one also. The chronic railer and misanthrope 
still seeks some one kindly tolerant enough of him to listen to 
his sniffs and growls. Has it ever occurred to him that 
society only bears with him because it cannot bring itself to 
t>e as rude as he is ? Has he ever asked himself what he has 
given into the general fund where all are asked to contribute, 
and why he is not bodily turned out of a temple whose entire 
-creed is reciprocity? Doubtless not. 

The mild cynic who, while evincing a wariness of human 
:nature, can still play the martyr and immolate himself on the 
altar of good manners, by exerting himself to be witty, inter- 
esting or sympathetic, we shall doubtless always have with us ; 
and after all society owes him something, and appreciates this 
fact. He adds to the fund, and his small show of venom is 
likely only to raise a laugh. He is more agreeable to well- 
bred people than the man with a confiding, unsuspecting heart, 
who has a poor way of showing it, and is taciturn when he 
■ought to be responsive, and obtrusive where* he ought to 
be quiet. 

Let no one imagine that he is of so little importance that 
his behavior shall pass unnoticed. Society is a sort of silent 
police which is ever on the alert. "We are, 11 says Addison, 
" no sooner presented to any one we never saw before but we 
are immediately struck with the idea of a proud, a reserved, 
an affable, or a good-natured man." And not only are we 



SOCIAL CULTURE. 



noted, criticised and classified, but even the most insignificant 
is a pattern and a power to somebody. No living human 
being is without some influence. Sometimes it is by constant 
contact with certain ones, or it may be by the divine right of 
parenthood; but still we are an oracle to somebody. 

Let us by all means have truth, truth the divine essence of 
all fine morals, but don't let us have it thrust at us on the 
point of a sword, or administered with vinegar and gall. Such 
a mode of procedure brings even virtue into disrepute. It is 
bad for the cause, and defeats the very end for which it is 
working. Of such advocates Truth might exclaim: "Save 
me from my friends ! " The inquisition was a very forcible 
way of setting forth the value of religion, but it led the disaf- 
fected to say I want nothing of a faith that has to push its 
claims by fire and the rack. Injudicious severity is also apt 
to produce a revolt and strong reaction. After Cromwell 
came Charles II. Doubtless the grim, unlovely manners of 
the early Puritans had much to do with the violent rebound 
from iron bands to license. In a lesser degree, too much 
bluntness of truth-telling in one generation, may be the cause 
of too much suavity and insincerity in the next. 

" Nothing," says Sir Richard Steele, " is more silly than the 
pleasure some people take in 'speaking their minds.'' A man 
of this make will say a rude thing for the mere pleasure of 
saying it, when an opposite behavior, full as innocent, might 
have preserved his friend, or made his fortune." But aside 
from the foolishness of the thing, and the fact that such a per- 
son may make remarks of this character out of sheer brutality, 
the really genuine, noble-minded man, who thinks that he may 
speak his mind at all times, is more than likely to be thought 
simply belligerent and disagreeable. You may step on a 
corn with the very best motive in the world, but the victim is 
exceedingly apt to forget the motive, and remember only the 



YOU AND I. 



293 



pain. The individual who would be a power for good, and 
would reform social life, must not let his subjects know that 
they are being reformed. If you tell a man he is an arrant 
knave, even though he be one, he will tell you that you lie. 

Seneca has most wisely said : " The manner of saying or of 
doing anything goes a great way in the value of the thing 
itself. It was well said of him that called a good office that 
was done harshly and with an ill will, a stony piece of bread : 
it is necessary for him that is hungry to receive it, but it 
almost chokes a man in the going down." 

Even fine gifts and attainments are of little worth if we 
have not the faculty of setting them forth agreeably and 
attractively. Says Locke: "Courage in an ill-bred man has 
the air, and escapes not the opinion of brutality; learning 
becomes pedantry, and wit buffoonery." 

If a delicate and sensitive soul has found for us a fine way 
of doing a thing, and it has been called good by such souls 
ever since, let us be glad that it was discovered before our 
day, and lose no time in learning the formula and profiting 
by it; for if it is the right way to treat some one else, it is the 
way in which we ourselves would wish to be treated, and the 
law is for our protection as well as our restraint. There is 
always a best way of doing a thing, if it be to sweep a room. 
If we are willing to give much time and labor to the attaining 
of proficiency in handling a chisel or drawing a line, shall we 
not give as much to the mastery of those things which shall, 
in a great measure, make the success or failure of our lives? 

Do you say: " But these are mere hollow forms, these rules 
of fashionable etiquette." I can only answer: even form is 
built upon reality, and all courtesy means love. Have we a 
higher law than love? 

There is very little danger of the true lady or gentleman 
becoming a mere martinet, " a thing of shreds and patches " 



294 



SOCIAL CULTURE. 



of form and ceremony. The fragrance of the rose will always 
distinguish it from the French imitation, be it ever so clever. 
Mankind, which can not be long deceived by base metal, even 
with the guinea stamp, will also be sure to know the sound 
of pure gold when it rings. 

" What if the false gentleman almost bows the true out of 
the world?" says the philosopher. Real service will not lose 
its nobleness. All generosity is not merely French and senti- 
mental; nor is it to be concealed that living blood and a 
passion of kindness does at last distinguish God's gentle- 
man from Fashion's." 

Place the matter in whatever light we will, we can not 
afford to ignore the rules of polite behavior. A subject which 
has engaged the attention of great men, philosophers and 
poets, from Bacon and Spencer down to Emerson, is certainly 
one deserving of attention. Edmund Burke, the great and 
eloquent writer on philosophy and politics has even asserted: 
" Manners are of more importance than laws. Upon these, 
in a great measure, the laws depend." 




ENTERING SOCIETY. 




HE young lady just entering society 
has before her a vast, unexplored 
realm, and it is well, in reconnoiter- 
ing it, to look for some slight aid 
from chart and compass, be they 
ever so inadequate to all sorts of 
weathers and atmospheres. 

The Age for a Debut. — The age 
at which a young lady may make 
her formal entrance into a society, is 
usually from seventeen to twenty. 
The time is generally governed by her school duties, or the 
presence of older sisters yet unmarried. 

A young lady should not attend parties and balls 
while engaged in educational pursuits. The proper serving 
of two such masters as learning and the gay world, is an utter 
impossibility, especially at the age of seventeen, when the 
fascinations of a ball possess charms that are never experi- 
enced in after years. Going to school is an old, well tried 
experience, going to a ball is a new and delightful one, and it 
is not hard to tell which would engross the entire thought of 
a young girl. 

The one who has remained a student until twenty, and 
enters the dizzy whirl of society when heart and brain are 

295 



296 



ENTERING SOCIETY. 



somewhat prepared for the ordeal, will, if she be wise, never 
cease to be thankful that she did not enter society at seventeen. 
This is especially true in this country where young girls go 
about so much without chaperons, and are allowed liberties 
which, in the old world, would be considered as flying in the 
face of Providence. We must say for Ameriaan women that, 
as far as their honor is concerned, they will bear favorable 
comparison with those of any nation, and their morals are even 
better than the strictly watched French Madamoiselle. But 
since they are left so much to themselves, they need to be 
doubly armed with wisdom and common sense if they would 
escape those regrets and self-accusations over ill-timed and 
unconsidered remarks, which are the result of artlessness and 
an abundant flow of spirits. 

" O well, 17 some one says, " we all have to learn by experi- 
ence.'" Very true, but sometimes we do not have to buy so 
much experience at a high price if we lay in a little caution to 
start with. 

The Formal Debut. — The mother who desires to make 
known to the social world that her daughter has passed from 
school-life to womanhood, usually invites to her house, in rec- 
ognition of the event, such friends as she may wish to present 
her daughter to, as a future member of their circle. Before 
giving such a party, the mother and elder, unmarried sisters 
call, or leave their own and their father's and brother's cards 
with such people as they wish to invite. 

Invitations. — The invitation is sent out about ten days in 
advance, and if sent by mail, an extra envelope covers the one 
to be kept neat and presentable. Where there are several 
young ladies in a family, they are addressed as " the Misses 
Each young gentleman receives a separate invita- 
tion. 



YOU AND I. 



297 



The form is nearly always the same as that for a party, but 
when the special purpose of the entertainment is indicated, 
something like the following is used: 

Mr. and Mrs- W. H. Burwell, 
request the pleasure of 
presenting their eldest {or second, etc.,) daughter, 
Miss A ugusta Gertrude, 

to 

Mr. and Mrs. W. B. Harley, 
on Thursday evening, May 8th, at half past eight o'clock. 
Dancing at eleven. No. 11 Burton Street. 

A method more in favor is to enclose the card of the lady 
with the invitation from her parents. Such invitations should 
be immediately answered, either accepting or declining. 

Other Formalities. — Intimate friends may, if they wish, 
send flowers to a young lady on the day of her debut, but it 
is not expected that they will do so. 

During the reception of guests, the debutante stands at the 
left of her mother. Young gentlemen are introduced to her, 
but she is presented to her elders, and to ladies. As at any 
party or reception, guests do not linger for any lengthy 
remarks, but give place, as soon as possible, to others who are 
waiting to pay their respects. 

When supper is announced, a brother escorts the young 
lady to the table, the father leading the way with the oldest or 
most distinguished lady present, and the mother coming last 
with the gentleman to be most honored. If there be no 
brother, the father takes in the young lady. 

The gentleman who dances first with the debutante is usu- 



298 



ENTERING SOCIETY. 



ally selected by the mother from among her relatives or 
nearest friends. 

No gentleman asks to dance twice with the young lady, 
though he may express his regret that the number who wish 
for that honor debars him from again soliciting the pleasure. 

The young lady is generally present when her mother 
receives the visits which follow the party. 

During the first season she does not pay formal calls alone, 
nor does she have a card of her own, her name being engraved 
beneath that of. her mother. 

She does not receive gentlemen visitors, without a chaperon, 
until her second season. 

The Sorts Entrance. — In this country no formality is 
observed on the entrance of the son into society. In England, 
if he belong to the upper class, the celebration of his twenty- 
first birth-day usually marks the time from which he is hence- 
forth to be considered a man. But, as a general thing, he 
takes furtive peeps, of short duration, at the dizzy whirl from 
the vantage ground of school or college boyhood, and decides 
for himself how soon he shall care to enter the arena. If he 
have sisters, he begins earlier than otherwise. 

Some Words to the Debutante. — In the first place, we are 
quite sure that you mean rightly. We are also sure that 
much will be forgiven you, but to be continually forgiving the 
most charming woman, is exceedingly wearing, unless a man 
be madly in love with her. 

It is natural for young people, running over with fresh 
young life and spirits, who are blessed with the power of 
pleasing, to imagine that the world was created for their 
especial benefit; but after a time it is apt to be forced upon 
them that other people seem to think that they have a right 
to come in for a certain share of consideration; and, though the 



YOU AND I. 



299 



very young man and woman have no desire or intention of 
slighting any one or stepping on anybody's toes, and " wish to 
goodness, " people would just take them as they mean, people 
will not go on taking them as they mean. Outside of their own 
family circle, society has no opportunity of judging them 
except by their behavior. And though there are many 
charitable ones who are always wishing to give us the benefit 
of the doubt — Heaven bless them ! — there are a very large 
number who have neither cultivated nor been born with that 
sort of a disposition. 

Now, in the first place, — and we are speaking to young 
men as well as maidens — while we know you have all respect 
for the elderly, and must inwardly bow before those whose 
years and long experience, you see at a glance, have given 
them the wisdom which can only be acquired by time, do not 
neglect the outward manifestation of that respect which you 
have for them. 

We do not mean by this simply the giving up of a seat to, 
or waiting upon the aged, but we mean the respectful 
attention in conversation, and the attempt to be entertaining 
and agreeable, which many young people of the present day 
seem to think only worth while when addressing some one of 
their own age, or of the opposite sex. This does not apply 
entirely to the treatment of the very aged; there are many 
middle-aged people who are well worth talking to, strange as 
the assertion may sound to certain young people. 

It ought not to be necessary to write these words. It ought 
to be understood that for the elderly or middle-aged to give 
time or attention to those who, by reason of less education, 
character, and experience can scarcely interest like an older 
person, is a condescension to be met by the recipient with the 
best he can give. 

But in some localities — we must say, not noted for their 



300 



ENTERING SOCIETY. 



culture or refinement — we have actually seen the fathers, 
mothers and older relatives snubbed and slighted to such a 
degree, that when some young man or maiden acknowledged 
their existence in a polite and decent manner, they accepted 
the fact as a phenomenal case of condescension. 

It is natural that ordinary young people should prefer the 
society of those of their own age. Their pursuits, amuse- 
ments and interests are apt to be on the same plane. 

" When we go to a party," say they, " we go for dancing 
and nonsense. We can not be expected to talk up to the 
grade of the elderly and wise. So we like those who feel the 
same way that we do, and are ready to take us as we are." 
Very true, and very natural, and the " elderly and wise," who 
expect you to be up to their " grade," would be exceedingly 
unreasonable. They would not dream of engaging you in an 
ethical argument or a philosophical discussion, but they do 
expect that you will notice their presence and pass a few 
words with them. If you are in such haste to dance and talk 
with every young lady present, or, being a young lady, to 
attract the notice of every young gentleman present, that you 
forget common politeness to the mammas, papas and aunts, 
then society becomes too much of an intoxication for you to 
safely enjoy it, and you would better call upon a waiter or cha- 
peron to watch and remind you of the duties which you for- 
get. 

There are many places beside parties where the opportu- 
nity for conversation with elders should not only be embraced 
with pleasure, but should be sought for, by those who desire 
to be something other than frivolous or drearily common- 
place young men and women. You cannot afford to slight 
one of the important factors of a liberal education. If one 
does not occasionally mingle with both old and young, he 
misses certain elements of a rounded culture, and a know- 



YOU AND I. 



301 



ledge of mankind, both of which are necessary to success in 
the world. 

Acknowledging Courtesies. — We wish we might impress 
upon all young people the importance of acknowledging favors 
conferred upon them by their elders. If a lady gives a tea or 
a lawn party for the express purpose of making the young 
men and maidens happy, the latter should not imagine that all 
obligations on their part end after they have lent the sunshine 
of their presence to the affair. Young ladies who have 
received such hospitalities should not forget to call upon their 
hostess, and young gentlemen should not only call, but occa- 
sionally place themselves at the disposal of the lady, as escort, 
supposing she may be in need of such a convenience. If the 
lady be cultured and morally fine, the youth or young man 
upon whom she is gracious enough to spend any time, may 
consider himself especially fortunate, for he will derive from 
her society that which will benefit him more than a two years 
experience with the thoughtless of his own age. 

Nearly all the famous men of letters have owed much of 
their culture and knowledge of the world to a friendship with 
some educated woman older than themselves. 

A certain old English lady who gave some of the most ele- 
gant balls of the London "season," to which she invited scores 
of young people, because she was fond of them, and of seeing 
them enjoy themselves, finally announced quietly, but in bit- 
terness of spirit, that she had given her last ball. The young 
ladies and gentlemen who gladly flocked to her handsome 
drawing-rooms on festal occasions, never thought of calling 
upon her afterwards and she declined to be any longer a 
convenience to them. 

The u Horrid Alan " Speaks. — A correspondent of the New 
Orleans Times-Democrat says a few words which we sincerely 



302 



ENTERING SOCIETY. 



recommend to the consideration of all young ladies in their 
first season. If he writes the least particle bitterly, it is no 
doubt from the weariness of recent martyrdom, and we must 
forgive him for the sake of the good he is likely to do in thus 
putting the case plainly to those who have not the remotest 
intention of being cruel, but are only unconscious of the burden 
they impose. He says: 

"Any good-natured and polite man is willing to devote ten 
minutes to each debutante; he is glad to dance with her, to 
walk a few minutes about the room with her, and contribute 
his share toward making her first season a success. But the 
average debutante has not graduated in tact and discernment. 
She loves dancing, and never wearies of revolving about the 
room with a real society man, instead of a school-girl partner. 
She keeps on and on until the poor partner, who has been at 
work all day, is nearly ready to drop. At last she stops, not 
from any consideration of her partner, but because the music 
ceases. Then begins a promenade. Again and again they 
make the tour of the room; again and again they pass the 
brother, who is supposed to be chaperoning her, or the mother, 
whose business it is to see that the daughter does not become 
an incubus, a ' deadly old man of the sea,' upon the unhappy 
gallant who took her out to dance. The brother pursues his 
own heiress, the maternal guardian makes no sign, and the 
girl has neither grace nor gumption enough to say, 'And now 
take me to my mother.' 

" So the music begins again, and so the weary young man 
totters off to the same treadmill measure, the same dreary 
promenade. By this time Rosafresca begins herself to be 
uncomfortable. She realizes a little that her cavalier may 
have in the room friends that he would like to see; she dimly 
comprehends that there are probably girls present who have 
entertained him at dinner and otherwise. She looks appeal- 



YOU AND I. 



303 



ingly at the few men she knows, but they have observed the 
situation and have no intention whatever of being " stuck " — 
in the elegant phraseology used to describe the predicament — 
for the rest of the evening. 

" Naivette and the pretty little current phrases have long 
since ceased to be amusing, and as the unsophisticated creat- 
ure grows restive and inattentive, she loses all charm ; but the 
martyrdom continues until the desperate cavalier invents an 
engagement, or exchanges with another unfortunate whom 
they meet in the endless promenade, or boldly inquires if she 
would like to sit down. Then, and not till then, is the chap- 
eron sought." 

To the gentleman in such a dilemma as the foregoing, an 
easy way out would be to take the young lady to her chap- 
eron, whether she suggests it or not. This course is nothing 
more nor less than etiquette at any time. 

Lovingly Addressed to the Girls. — Dear girls, we want to 
let you into a little secret — we know you wouldn't be a year 
or two behind the style for anything. — It is this : pertness, 
silliness and kittenish do-nothingness are actually, after receiv- 
ing such wide popularity, going out. They are even now 
quite -passe in the best circles, and it is thought, in a short 
time, they will only be seen among the lower and more igno- 
rant classes. Good sense, thoughtfulness, and an aim in life, 
are becoming so fashionable that very soon to be without them 
will be decidedly behind the mode. 

We saw recently, at a summer resort, several girls who 
were bound to be up with the times. They were nearly all 
pretty, handsomely dressed and attractive. They didn't 
talk four-fifths of the time about clothes, and, " isn't he 
just too lovely?" and, "I'm just dying for a box of car- 
amels," and, "wasn't the floor just heavenly last night! " and, 



304 



ENTERING SOCIETY. 



" its no use talking, I can't go on this way, I didn't sit through 
one dance, you know." And they didn't look insufferably 
bored, like amateur Cleopatras, or condescendingly com- 
manding, like embryo de Medicis, these girls of whom 1 
speak; but they talked brightly and sensibly, with quite a 
sprinkling of original ideas, and without giggling much. They 
were on hand for tramps and excursions, but they didn't 
consider it " fussy " to take their rubbers or, if they were to 
go on the water, to provide themselves with wraps. They 
danced about half the time, and were not averse to con- 
versation between the numbers. They had a certain self- 
reliant air that, while it was not so manifest as to repel the 
little helpful gallantries of the gentleman, still impressed the 
the latter with the idea that they were extending these cour- 
tesies to women, and not to kittens or canary birds. 

They dressed in good taste, were decidedly in good com- 
pany, could set the table for a clam-bake, or wash the dishes 
afterward, and nearly all, when at home, earned their own liv- 
ing, or helped to manage the work of the household. Those 
who were not helpful in some way, had an aim in life and 
were training themselves to be helpful, either in the useful or 
fine arts. 

Another important point is that all the gentlemen for whose 
opinion any cultured, sensible girl cares, seem to be decidedly 
favorable to the new fashion, and it is to be hoped that those 
who have not hitherto been partial to it, will be influenced 
by the gentler sex to adopt certain modifications of the 
mode, which will, without doubt, add to their attractions and 
power in a large degree. 

Society and the world are what the women make them. 
Dear girls, can we drift idly on in the face of such responsibil- 
ity? Can we rail at the falseness, the foolishness, the frivolity 
and wickedness of the times, if by our own shallow, inactive. 



YOU AND I. 



305 



unthinking lives, we have helped to bring about these things? 
Protest as you will, the weak, characterless woman is more 
often the mother of a vicious son than of one who only 
repeats her vapidness in harmless ways. 

None of us can afford to be a clog upon the wheels of pro- 
gress. The world is going forward, let us go with it; 
every day we are given more chances to help it along. 
If our services are beginning to achieve the proud dignity of 
being recognized, let us make them more perfect, and fit for 
the great work in which they have been found worthy to take 
a part. 

"What," says Emerson, "is civilization? I answer, the 
power of good women." 




20 



IN PUBLIC PLACES. 




mm 



*J IX CE in all public places we are 
more or less subjected to criticism 
|j| from strangers, it is important that 
at such times we should be espe- 
cially mindful of our behavior. 
Some people in their conduct in- 
stinctively consider the fitness of 
things ; others by their good- 
natured confidence in the forbearance of all humanity, expect 
always to be excused as they pardon others; and a consider- 
able number are so selfish, or desirous of attracting attention at 
any cost, that they trample on all the proprieties with the 
utmost abandon. 

While the following suggestions may in no way add to the 
stock of information possessed by many, they may serve to 
freshen in the memory certain things which are sometimes 
allowed to be forgotten. 

In Church. — If possible, be in your seat before the service 
begins. 

If you are a stranger, wait in the vestibule until some one 
comes to show you to a seat. 

A gentleman accompanying a lady may walk up the aisle 
by her side, or slightly preceding her, allowing her to enter 
the pew first. 

306 



YOU AND I. 



307 



When a lady comes to a pew in which gentlemen are 
already seated, they generally arise and step into the aisle to 
allow her to enter. This is not obligatory, especially when 
the service has begun, as in this case the late comer would 
much rather slip in quietly, than create the extra disturbance 
of two or three gentlemen leaving their seats to admit her. 

Respect for the time, the place, and other worshippers, should 
be incentive enough to preserve the utmost silence and gravity 
of behavior. Whispering, laughing or staring is not only ill- 
bred, but irreverent. Xoises of the feet, hands, mouth or 
throat should be carefully avoided. Some people nervously 
tap a book with their ringers, or the woodwork with their feet. 
If they are so absent-minded or fidgety as to thus annoy other 
people, they ought to forego even the consolation of divine 
worship in public until they have cured themselves of these 
habits. Neither has any one a right to bring small children, 
w 7 hose pranks or uneasiness will take attention from the ser- 
mon. Besides being an annoyance to others, it is a cruelty to 
the innocents. 

A lady who finds it necessary to use a fan, should not 
sway it at arm's length, but should try and confine the benefit 
of it to herself. Sometimes, delicate people, or those who do 
not look frail, but are very susceptible to colds, are much 
annoyed by draughts of this sort striking the ear or the back 
of the neck. A fan can be used so as not to spread dismay 
for several feet around. If it can not, the owner, if unable to 
do without it, would better leave the place than stay to annoy 
others. The noisy fan which clatters, or shuts with a rasping 
sound, is also a nuisance which should be abated. 

A person should not leave church during the service except 
in cases of emergencv. 

It is polite to see that visitors are provided with books. If 
the service is strange to them, or they have not understood the 



308 



IN PUBLIC PLACES. 



page, the place should be found for them. If there is but one 
book, it is proper to offer to share it with a stranger. 

If very late, one should take a pew as near as possible to 
the door. 

Books or fans passed in church are accepted or refused with 
a silent motion of the head. 

When visiting a church of a different belief from your own, 
conform as far as possible to the observances, such as rising or 
sitting. No matter how grotesque some of the forms may 
seem, you should not allow a smile or contemptuous look to 
indicate your impressions to the worshippers. That which is 
precious or uplifting to any human soul is worthy of your 
respect. 

A Protestant gentleman accompanying a Roman Catholic 
lady to her own church may offer to her the holy water with 
his ungloved right hand; this, however, is not obligatory. 

When sight-seeing, or visiting a church for the mere purpose 
of viewing its interior or works of art, one should, if possible, 
choose a time when no services are being held. If, in such a 
case, scattered worshippers are found at their devotions, the 
visitor should move quietly about and speak in whispers. 
The conduct of some English and American travelers in 
cathedrals abroad has been sufficiently outrageous to justify 
the custodians of such places in closing their doors against all 
tourists if they choose to do so. 

In the Studio. — Do not handle anything in an artist's studio. 
If you take up a bit of drapery, you may disarrange folds 
that he has spent hours in adjusting for a study. The canvas 
which you handle may not be dry, and some serious accident 
may be the result. The canvas turned to the wall may be in 
that position for some certain reason, and you have no more 



YOU AND I. 



309 



right to turn it around, than you have to examine the private 
notes of an author, or the diary of a physician. 

Never take a small child into a studio. If it does not do 
any mischief, it will keep the artist in a constant fever of 
apprehension. A dog should be left at home also. 

A visitor should not stand long watching an artist at work. 
Some people of nervous temperament are unable to paint at 
all under such circumstances. 

Do not make a long visit, especially if you find the artist at 
work. Some things can only be painted in a certain light, 
and he must make use of every minute. The time which he 
sets apart to devote to his palette and canvas is golden to 
him, and unless he assures you positively that you are not 
interrupting him, either make a very short call, or ascertain 
at what time he usually stops work, and visit him then. 

Do not ask his prices unless you intend to become a pur- 
chaser. If the amount named is higher than you wish to pay, 
you may state what you can give, when it is optional for the 
artist to accept or refuse. Some people prefer to get the 
artist's price through a third person, and trust the entire trans- 
action to the latter, as being a more delicate method; but the 
artist certainly paints his pictures to sell, and there can be no 
objection to the first proceeding, if politely conducted by the 
purchaser. 

If you have not been invited by the artist, do not visit his 
studio, except on business. 

Extravagant admiration or severe criticism is in bad taste, 
and to endeavor to talk much about any picture in a learned 
way, when you are not learned, is only to subject yourself to 
the ridicule of the artist and all who may chance to hear. If 
the statue or painting pleases you, the sculptor or painter will 



310 



IN P UBLIC PL A CPS. 



be glad to hear it in a few well chosen words, for no one is 
entirely insensible to the appreciation of others. 

In the Art Gallery. — All that has been said of conduct in 
the studio will apply equally well in the public exhibition 
room or gallery, with perhaps a few additional hints. Do not 
talk or laugh loudly, or in any way draw attention to your- 
self. If you know a great deal about pictures it is the wiser 
course not to make such a display of it as to draw the atten- 
tion of strangers to the fact. Instead of thanking you for the 
information, they will be more likely to accuse you of egotism,, 
and the desire to impress them. A friend or two may be glad 
to hear what you have to say, and your remarks should be in 
low tones, and addressed only to them. 

The following from Punch will describe how a certain class 
of people make themselves ridiculous: 

" Male dilettant, No. i (making a telescope of his hand). — 
What I like so much is that — er — er — . 

Ditto, No. 2 (with his nose almost touching the canvas). — 
I know what you mean — that broad — er — . 

Female dilettant, No. i (waving her hand gently from right 
to left). — Precisely. That sort of — er — of — er — of — er — . 

Ditto, No. 2. — Just so. That general sort of — er — of 
— er — . 

Ditto, No. 3. — Oh, yes! quite too lovely! — that particular 
kind of — er — of — er — 

Never ridicule or make caustic remarks about a work, loud 
enough to be heard by those around you. If you do not hap- 
pen to know the artist, he may be very near you, and you will 
not only appear ill-bred, but may wound his feelings in a 
brutal manner. 

Do not pass before a person who is viewing a picture, or if 
you are obliged to do so, apologize. Do not touch the canvas, 
or point with canes or umbrellas. So much damage has been 



YOU AND I. 



311 



done with these articles, that in most public galleries they are 
not now allowed to be taken inside. 

The author of a recent book on art says : u Are we to remove 
our hats in a public gallery? We are not obliged to; and, 
yet, it is better and more polite to do so. We should remove 
them out of respect to the ladies who may be present, and to 
facilitate the view of persons who may be behind us. And, 
again, when we come into the presence of a work that has 
caused a great man months, and even years, of hard labor and 
anxious thought, why should we not uncover?" 

In the Hotel. — In so public a place as a hotel parlor, a lady 
will be careful not to draw the attention of strangers to herself, 
by loud laughing, talking, or any conspicuous conduct. She 
will never sit down to the piano, and put an end to all conver- 
sation, unless she is sure that she is a good enough performer 
to give real pleasure even to the fastidious. For professional 
pianists or singers to give a few exhibitions of their talents 
and skill, is a graceful compliment to those present, and such 
music is always listened to with pleasure; but the mediocre 
player who bangs the instrument in season and out of season, 
however worthy her motives, is apt to draw unfavorable com- 
ment to herself. 

Any sort of boisterous conduct in the corridors, especially 
at night after guests have retired, is ill-bred and selfish in the 
extreme. 

Ladies should beware of asking questions of strange gentle- 
men in hotel parlors. Sometimes that which carries the out- 
ward semblance of a gentleman is something altogether 
different from what it seems. Ring for the clerk or some 
attache of the house, and get the desired information from 
those whose duty it is to give it. 

When a lady is obliged to receive gentlemen callers in the 



812 



IN PUBLIC PLACES. 



reception-room of a hotel, they will rise at her entrance, the 
same as in a private drawing-room, but will shorten their 




IN THE RECEPTION-ROOM. 



visits in so public a place. Of course, neither ladies nor gen- 
tlemen will indulge in loud conversation or boisterous laughter 
in an apartment where the public have free access. 

At Fairs and Festivals. — A gentleman on entering a 
charity fair or festival, will remove his hat, as he is to be in 



YOU AND I. 



313 



the presence of ladies. It is not polite to make comments on 
the prices or the articles exposed for sale. Take them at the 
sum asked or leave them alone. 

The lady having a table should not descend to coaxing or 
wheedling people to buy, even for sweet charity's sake. 
Those who can sometimes very illy afford the outlay will 
purchase to avoid the attention which is being drawn to them, 
or the appearance of stinginess in the eyes of others. Neither 
should a lady resort to the still more beggarly scheme of 
retaining the change, when more than the price of the article 
is received. If the purchaser wishes to give, it must not be 
on compulsion, as he has a perfect right to choose the manner 
in which he shall bestow his charity. The well-bred person 
will not be guilty of loud talking or laughing, or conspicuous 
flirting in so public a place. 

At the Opera or Theatre. — By all means try to be in your 
seat before the performance begins. If you come late you 
make a portion of the audience lose some of the entertain- 
ment by having to pass before them, and by the noise and 
confusion necessary in settling yourself. 

Gentlemen having occasion to pass before ladies, should do 
so with their faces toward them, never turning their backs, 
and always apologizing for disturbing them. 

In entering the auditorium the lady and gentleman pass up 
the aisle side by side, unless the passageway is narrow or 
crowded, in which case the latter precedes his companion. In 
coming out, the gentleman always goes first. 

Do not talk, whisper or laugh, while others are quietly 
listening. It is an indignity to both audience and performers, 
and could such an offender be conscious of the bottled up 
wrath which is ready to be poured on his head, he might pos- 
sibly desist. However, it is doubtful if he would. An indi- 



IN P UBLIC PLA CES. 



vidual who is willing to interfere with the comfort of five hun- 
dred people, is perhaps so callous as to be beyond anything 
but the persuasion of force. The Press has lifted up its voice, 
and Theodore Thomas, a short time since, administered a well- 
timed and stinging rebuke to the wealthy occupants of a box, 
who were by their chatter disturbing both performers and 
audience. In this he was encouraged and supported, not only 
by those present, but by all the " noble army of martyrs," who 
have suffered under such inflictions. 

Other individuals who are positive thorns in the flesh to 
sensitive people, are the ones who eat candy audibly, break 
peanut shells, rattle papers or programmes, put their feet 
against their neighbors' chairs, or contrive to rustle about in 
their seats, just when a low or delicate passage requires the 
utmost silence and attention. 

What is said of the fan in church manners is also quite as 
applicable in the lecture room or theatre. Be careful not to 
make so innocent a thing an instrument of torture to others. 

The gentleman who escorts a lady should by no means 
leave her side between acts or at any other time during the 
performance; neither should he give up his seat to a lady who 
happens to be without one, as his first duty is to his com- 
panion. In cases where the audience come by invitation, such 
as college commencements, or complimentary performances, 
and no reserved seats are to be obtained, a gentleman may 
give his seat to a lady friend, especially if she be an elderly per- 
son, after first asking permission of the lady who accompanies 
him. 

Applause is perfectly right, and should not be withheld 
from the performer who deserves it. Public speakers, sing- 
ers, musicians and actors have no other means of knowing 
whether they please, and are sure to do all the better for a 
little encouragement. We once heard a performer say: "I'm 



YOU AND I. 



315 



sure I didn't do well at all to-night. It was such a cold house; 
hardly a hand from beginning to end." 

Do not take small children to the opera house. We love 
the dear little people anywhere better than there. But when 
we are carried up to sublime heights by Shakespeare's im- 
mortal words, or float in upper air with tender strains of won- 
drous Chopin, and are suddenly dumped down to earth by the 
innocent prattle or discordant cry of an infant, we don't feel 
just as we ought to toward the infant for about a minute ; and 
the rest of the time our resentment is transferred from the 
innocent to the parent or guardian, who should have known 
better than to have deliberately taken the chances of disturb- 
ing a whole audience. 

Never stand up, and put on an overcoat or wrap, or leave 
before the performance is over, unless in cases of absolute 
necessity. Most people wish to hear the end of a play or 
piece of music just as much as the last page or two of an 
interesting book. If you do not, you have no right to deprive 
others of the privilege. 

Dress at the Opera. — A lady should not appear in full 
dress, except when occupying a box. Heretofore the rule 
has also applied to gentlemen, but as American theatres are 
now built with so few boxes, the fashion seems to be gaining 
ground for gentlemen, on very stylish occasions, to come in 
evening dress. The ladies accompanying them, wear hand- 
some visiting or reception dresses, flowers, and small white or 
delicately tinted opera bonnets. Ladies should never wear 
large hats, or any kind of towering head-gear at a public 
entertainment. They have no right to obstruct the view of 
those behind them, and if they persist in so doing, should not 
feel aggrieved if they are requested to remove the objection- 
able piece of millinery. 



316 



IN PUBLIC PLACES. 



A lady ought to consider it her duty to brighten a sombre 
garb with a ribbon or knot of flowers. If natural blossoms 
are not convenient, some of the artificials are pretty enough 
to come very near nature. 

Light shades of gloves may be worn, but white ones are 
not just now admissible. 

Duties of the Escort. — A gentleman, when wishing to ask 
a lady for her company to any place of amusement, should 
send a note of invitation at least a day in advance; and the 
lady should answer at once, either accepting or declining. 
It is customary for the gentleman to ask permission to call 
the next evening, which should be granted, or if a previous 
engagement interferes, an evening should be named upon . 
which he can call. 

If full dress is to be worn, the gentleman calls for the lady 
in a carriage. If in the ordinary street, or visiting costume, 
it is entirely permissible to take advantage of the street cars 
or any public conveyance, or even to walk if the distance be 
short. Of course, in case of a storm, the gentleman should 
provide a close carriage. Ladies who are understood as 
expecting the luxury of a carriage on all occasions, will be 
likely to find their invitations to the public amusements 
steadily on the decline, unless, indeed, they possess an unusual 
number of wealthy admirers. 

Many gentlemen who would enjoy the company of their 
lady friends at such places, are obliged to forego the pleasure, 
when to the price of a ticket is added the florist and livery- 
man's bill ; therefore, ladies who make the carriage fashionable, 
must also expect to make staying at home fashionable among 
those who rely on their gentleman friends for escorts. 



YOU AND L 



317 



In Street Car and Omnibus — In any public vehicle, try to 
take up as little room as possible. If you are a lady, do not 
spread out your draperies, and at the same time allow some 
one to stand. Do not pile up the seat or floor with parcels or 
extend your umbrella or parasol at an angle to trip up unwary 
passengers. If you are a gentleman, do not stretch your feet 
across the aisle, or expectorate. There is no necessity for the 
latter disgusting performance unless you are an invalid or an 
inveterate tobacco chewer. For one there may be pity, for 
the other there is only loathing. 

Do not get into heated discussions, and, above all things, do 
not use profane language. 

Swearing.— The great revivalist, the Rev. Sam. Jones, in 
his sermon to men at the exposition building in Cincinnati, 
January 22, said: "Swearing in its fearful influence permeates 
your system, and when the cancer breaks out on your tongue 
it is in your system from head to foot, and, if you stop it there, 
it will break out on your hand, and you will go and steal 
something. I often think of the grandmother of little Willie. 
She sat in a car behind two men who were spitting out their 
vile oaths. The old lady pressed the ends of her thumbs into 
little Willie's ears until he would stand it no longer. She 
then ran around in front of the men, placing herself between 
them and Willie, and pleaded, 'Oh! gentlemen, please quit; 
my little grandson won't let me hold my thumbs in his ears 
any longer, and I would not have him hear those oaths for all 
the world." 

It is the height of ill-manners and bad raising to sit among 
strangers and pour out profanity into their ears. I tell you, 
men, if you swear, you lack just that much of being a gentle- 



318 



IN PUBLIC PLACES. 



man. Boys let us assert our manhood and our sense to the 
God that made us, and let us say : ' 1 have sworn my last oath.' " 

Where may We Keep on Hats? — At garden parties, and at 
all assemblies held in the open air, or in corridors where there 
are strong draughts, gentlemen may wear their hats. In the 
latter instance, when in the presence of ladies, gentlemen will 
offer some explanation, and ask permission to retain their hats, 
but ladies will sometimes request the latter to resume their 
hats where there is danger of catching cold, as at the door of 
a carriage or the foyer of an opera house on a cold evening. 

Where can We Smoke? — In any place where we are not 
inconveniencing others, injuring dainty surroundings, or pro- 
faning sacred ground; most assuredly not on the crowded 
deck of a ferry, steamer, hotel piazza, or in any place where 
ladies may resort. Some people are very disagreeably af- 
fected by tobacco smoke, and no well-bred man will for a 
mere selfish gratification destroy the comfort of others. 

The Fatal Banana Peel. — Do not eat fruit on the public 
promenade, especially if you are so careless as to throw the 
peel on the sidewalk. One would scarcely like to consider 
himself responsible for broken bones or a lameness for life, yet 
he is liable to be so every time he throws a bit of fruit skin 
where people walk. 

True Politeness. — The truly polite person will answer 
kindly all proper questions addressed to him in a respectful 
manner, wherever he may be. People asking for information 
take for granted that you are a gentleman, and as they pay you 
this compliment, you should not lead them to believe otherwise. 

Some men seem to think they have a perfect right to 
kick a newsboy if he asks them to buy a paper, or growl at a 



YOU AND I. 319 

little fruit vender for presuming to present her wares. The 
true gentleman finds it just as easy to speak politely, and a 




THE TRUE GENTLEMAN. 

taller by the performance, only belittles himself in the estima- 
tion of all whose opinion is worth considering. 



INT ROD UCTIONS. 



OU or I have a perfect right to 
choose our acquaintances, there- 
fore we should remember that others 
wish to enjoy the same privilege, and 
should, in introducing people, rather 
err on the side of being too careful, 
than not careful enough. Many very agreeable ac- 
quaintances have been made without the formality of 
an introduction, and, under some circumstances, an 
acquaintance begun in this way is not an improper one. A 
formal introduction may be called a gateway to the beginning 
of a long and agreeable friendship, while the "picked up n 
acquaintance may be justly styled a " short cut " to a friend- 
ship, equally pleasant. 

Social Endorsement. — It should be borne in mind that 
in introducing a person, we in some degree assume the re- 
sponsibility of a social endorsement of the one presented, 
and may involve ourselves in the unpleasantness of afterwards 
rinding that one of the two, not desiring the acquaintance, 
has seen fit to " cut " the other, thereby bringing upon our- 
selves the displeasure of both parties. It is always best, when 
practicable, to settle the point beforehand, by enquiring if the 
introduction will be mutually agreeable. When this pre- 
caution is impossible, a reasonable amount of good judgment 
and common sense will usually enable the introducer to dis- 
criminate in assuming the responsibility of the introduction. 

320 



IN TROD UCT10NS. 



321 



Under Tour Friend J s Roof. — It is generally understood in 
the best society that any one we may meet at the house of a 
friend, whether it be at a dinner, evening party, or simply 
making a social call, is entitled to our respectful consideration, 
The fact that our friend receives the person under his or her 
roof ought to be sufficient guaranty of the respectability of 
the individual. Under such circumstances we may always 
address our fellow guests without the formality of an introduc- 
tion. Indeed, such introductions are considered in many of 
the highest circles, especially in England, as quite unnecessary. 

Usage. — In America, however, where society is cosmopoli- 
tan, and often made up of many different elements, and where 
it seldom happens that people who are brought together are 
all versed in the same social code, it has been found more con- 
ducive to the ease of all concerned for the hostess to introduce 
her callers or party guests to each other. Many ladies who 
are leaders in society, and who are recognized as authority in 
these matters, always insist on going through this formality — 
books of etiquette to the contrary. 

If, however, this ceremony is omitted, a well-bred person 
will always respond to the polite advances of his fellow guest, 
or, if need be, make such advances himself. Any other 
course is a pronounced discourtesy to one's host or hostess. 

A Deaf and Dumb Guest. — Mrs. Sherwood relates the fol- 
lowing anecdote, which will illustrate a case in point : 

" ' Pray can you tell me who the pianist is?' said a leader of 
society to a young girl near her, at a private concert. The 
young lady looked distressed, blushed and did not answer. 
Having seen a deaf-mute in the room whom she knew, the 
speaker concluded that this young lady belonged to that class 
of persons, and was very much surprised when, later, the hostess 
brought up this silent personage and introduced her. 
21 



322 



YOU AND I. 



1 I could not speak to you before, because I had not been 
introduced, — but the pianist is Mr. Mills, 1 remarked this punc- 
tilious person. 

k I, however, could speak to you, although we had not been 
formally presented. The roof was a sufficient guaranty of 
your respectability, and I thought from your not answering 
that you were deaf and dumb,' said the lady.'" 

The narrator adds: " The rebuke was deserved. Common 
sense must interpret etiquette ; 4 nice customs courtesy to 
great kings. 1 Society depends upon its social soothsayers for 
all that is good in it. A disagreeable woman can always find 
reasons enough for being formal and chilling; a fine-tempered 
woman can always rind reasons enough for being agreeable. 
A woman would rather be a benediction than a curse, one 
would think." 

The Acquaintance Not Necessarily Continued. — We may 
sometimes have special reasons for not wishing to continue an 
acquaintance begun under the roof of a friend. When this is 
the case, we are under no obligation to bow to the person thus 
met, and the fact of having been introduced makes no differ- 
ence, as we should in either case have spoken politely to the 
person while in our friend's home. Even our greatest enemy, 
if he be guest of our friend, should be thus treated, if we do not 
recognize him ten minutes afterwards, when once outside the 
door. We have no right to bring any disturbing element into 
the social atmosphere of our friend's home. 

Persons who have been introduced at a public place are not 
obliged to recognize each other afterwards. Nevertheless a 
mere formal bow of recognition encourages no further famili- 
arity, and, unless some very good reason for its omission 
exists, is never neglected by well-bred people. When there is 
such a reason, a lady or gentleman will rather avoid than 
openly ' l cut " an undesirable acquaintance. 



IN TR OD UC TIONS. 



323 



The Benefit of the Doubt, — Sometimes a lady who is a 
great deal in society may not remember the faces of all whom 
she casually meets, and for this reason may fail to recognize 
some persons on the street. No one more keenly regrets the 
occurrence than the unfortunate possessor of a bad memory, 
who is thereby led into the omission of a civility which it was 
not her intention to neglect. Those engaged in mental occu- 
pations, notably literary people, are most prone to this social 
forgetfulness, and charitable people will always give them the 
benefit of the doubt, rather than attribute to the omission a 
desire to " cut. 17 

The Cut Direct. — One should have exceedingly good 
reasons for inflicting the " cut 71 direct, unless the person 
slighted is decidedly objectionable in character or manners, or 
is so ill-bred as to presume on the slightest civility. A bow 
of recognition costs very little, and a lady or gentleman with 
true Christian kindliness will always respond to this courtesy; 
nor will he or she, whose social standing is established, feel that 
it is possible to be compromised by the mere return of a polite 
recognition. The incident related of George Washington, 
who would not allow himself to be outdone in politeness by 
his colored servants, is not true alone of this high-bred gentle- 
man and illustrious American, but finds a parallel in many 
men of these later, so-called, degenerate days, notably in the 
case of a resident of Cleveland, Ohio, who, living in princely 
style on Euclid avenue, and having much on his mind, as most 
modern Americans have, still, never forgets the polite saluta- 
tion to his servants, whether in the house or upon the street. 
If in the latter place, he never neglects to raise his hat. It is 
the comment of his friends and neighbors that this man has 
the best trained and most polite servants anywhere to be found. 
The reason may perhaps be traced to the example set before 



324 



YOU AND I. 



them by this modern Chesterfield, for, as Pope says: "All 
manners take a tincture from our own."" 
Of such a man it may be well said: 

" The gen'ral voice 
Sounds him, for courtesy, behaviour, language, 
And every fair demeanour, an example : 
Titles of honour add not to his worth, 
Who is himself an honour to his title." 

Because the person slighted happens to stand upon a some- 
what lower social plane; and the other wishes to establish a 
reputation for exclusiveness, is no excuse whatever for a 
deliberate "cut." A true heart and a broad, generous, Chris- 
tian character are above anything savoring of intentional 
snubbing. 

If, however, a lady desires exclusiveness, for some good 
reason, perhaps from diffidence, an over sensitive nature, one 
that does not readily adapt itself to different dispositions, or, 
as it often happens, from a lack of time to cultivate new 
acquaintances, her friends should remember this in introducing 
others to her, and should respect her privacy by not thrusting 
people upon her. But where this manner is affected for the 
mere name of being exclusive, it is nothing more or less than 
snobbishness of the worst sort. It is direct evidence of a very 
slippery social footing. Gurowski, in his book on America, 
declares that snobbishness is a peculiarity of the fashionable 
set in America, because they do not know where they stand. 
This gentleman doubtless did not mean to confine his remarks 
strictly to America. The -parvenu is to be found in ,every 
country under the sun, and the -parvenu is always a snob. 
Thackeray says: " Snobs are known and recognized through- 
out an Empire, on which, I am given to understand, the sun 
never sets." And again: "An immense percentage of snobs, 



I A 7 TR OD UC TIONS. 



325 



I believe, is to be found in every rank of this mortal life. 

* * First the world was made: then, as a matter of 
course, snobs. " 

A Stony Stare. — The " cut " direct is understood to be a pro- 
longed stare without recognition, and, if justifiable at all, can 
only be so when the extremely rude or presuming manners of 
the person " cut " necessitates extreme measures, or, as the 
surgeons say, kk heroic treatment," and a stinging rebuff is 
imperative. Some people will not take a hint. When this is 
the case the other alternative is in order. The necessity for 
such measures, however, may not occur more than once in a 
life-time, for a persistent avoidance will generally accomplish 
the same object, and is always the better course of the two. 

Which Shall Bovj First. — It has been customary until 
within a few years for a lady to always recognize a gentleman 
first, but it is now generally conceded that the one who first 
sees the other ma}' immediately bow, whether it be the gentle- 
man or the lady. This seems a sensible view to take of the 
matter. The only exception to be made would be in the case 
of a bow after the first meeting. In such an instance the gen- 
tleman would always prefer to wait to be recognized, as it is 
the lady's privilege to determine whether or not the acquain- 
tance shall continue. 

Stopping to Talk in the Street. — If, while walking with a 
friend, you meet another and wish to stop a few minutes to 
converse, it is not necessary to introduce the two, if they are 
strangers to each other; but when you part, the friend accom- 
panying you bows to the one leaving. 

Introduce Yourself. — If, when you enter a drawing-room, 
you find that you are not recognized, introduce yourself 
immediately. It sometimes happens that members of the 



326 



YOU AND I. 



family you have not met may be the only ones present; in 
which case you should make yourself known to them, in the 
absence of those who can introduce you. 

Shaking Hands. — A young lady, when introduced to a gen- 
tleman, bows but does not extend her hand. A married lady 
may use her own judgment in the matter. If the person intro- 
duced is a friend of some member of the family, or is pre- 
sented by a friend, and she wishes to give the stranger a cor- 
dial welcome, a lady should undoubtedly extend her hand as 
evidence of her pleasure at the meeting. 

A stiff, cold manner, upon being introduced, is much to be 
avoided, as a stranger will sometimes become so prejudiced 
against the possessor of such an exterior that no amount of 
thaw, or after glow, will ever efface the disagreeable impression 
first formed. Why encase yourself in an armor of ice that 
chills the atmosphere for several feet around you! Your 
friend or acquaintance, in introducing a lady or gentleman, has 
not meant to affront, but rather to compliment you. If you 
are so suspicious as to imagine that the stranger may be a 
thief or a disreputable character in disguise, you would better 
mingle no more in society, but go into a cave, or enter a con- 
vent at once. If, however, you mean to live with your fellow- 
creatures here below, always think the best you possibly can 
of them, until you are convinced and obliged to believe the 
contrary. Erasmus, in a letter to the pope, has beautifully 
said, in speaking of judging one's neighbor: " Let him put on 
Christian charity, which is severe enough when severity is 
needed." 

A kindly heart will feel that we are members of one great 
family, and that friendliness, not antagonism, should always 
be the first impulse. Among the beautiful teachings of the 
Master, this fact was most strongly emphasized, especially 
when He answered the question: " Who is my neighbor?" 



IN TROD UCTIONS. 



Should you discover that you have been imposed upon — 
for wolves do sometimes masquerade in sheep's clothing — 
you will have nothing to regret, if you have shown yourself a 
gentleman or a lady. You will certainly have much to regret, 
if your chilling demeanor has driven away one who might 
have been a valued friend. 

And who can estimate his influence? Emerson has said 
every man is an oracle to somebody, and again: " Who shall 
set a limit to the influence of a human being? 1 ' In a two 
minutes' talk you may be able to turn the current of a life. 
Suppose the person to be incongenial and not to your liking, 
is it not worth the sacrifice to have perhaps sown a good seed 
where one had never fallen before? 

Too Effusive. — On the other hand, effusiveness is not only 
in bad taste, but immediately leads the recipient to suspect its 
genuineness. " Those are generally good at flattering, who 
are good for nothing else," says South. 

An overwhelming or patronizing manner is disgusting to 
any one except a toady, or one so unsophisticated that he 
doesn't know when he is patronized. 

Upon receiving an introduction, good manners consist in 
striking the happy medium between these extremes. If one 
can be gracious without being gushing, kind without being 
patronizing, and dignified without being chilling, he has indeed 
found the juste milieu (the golden mean); and, says Lord 
Chesterfield: U A man's good-breeding is the best security 
against other people's ill manners." 

Introducing a Gentleman to a Lady. — It is always best to 
obtain the consent of a lady before introducing to her a gentle- 
man, and no one should be introduced into the house of a 
friend, unless permission has first been granted. 

If a person asks you to introduce him to another, and, above 



328 you AND I. 

all, if the former be a gentleman and the latter a lady, you 
should ascertain if the introduction will be agreeable, and if 
you find that it is not, you should decline on the ground that 
you are not sufficiently intimate to take that liberty. 

The Form of Introduction. — The gentleman is presented to 
the lady with some such words as these: "Mrs. B, allow me 
to introduce Mr. A;" or, " Mrs. B, Mr. A wishes to be pre- 
sented to you." After both have bowed, Mr. A should 
acknowledge the honor in any polite remark which his good- 
breeding or gallantry may suggest. 




Between Ladies. — In introducing two ladies, the younger 
should be presented to the elder, the inferior in social position 
to the superior. 

In America, a lady's social rank is not altogether gauged by 
her husband's. Sometimes a Mrs. X, whose husband is in no 



IN TROD UCTIONS. 



329 



way distinguished, or a Mrs. Y, who is a widow, or a Miss Z, 
who has never been married, may, by virtue of her elegant 
manners or exceptional gifts and attainments, reign a society 
queen over the wife of Senator M or General Q. That society 
may be justly called the most elegant and cultured, which 
ranks its members according to their minds, souls, and social 
graces, rather than the accident of wealth or birth. 

The Chaperon. — It is quite proper in a ballroom for a 
chaperon to ask young men if they will be introduced to her 
charge, and also if they wish to dance with her, as the young 
lady after the introduction naturally expects such an invita- 
tion, and its omission may appear an intentional slight. Ball- 
room introductions are supposed to indicate a desire on the 
part of the gentleman to show the lady some little attention. 

Good Intentions Respected. — If a lady wishes to introduce 
one gentleman to another, she should not meet with indiffer- 
ence from either one. If a lady has brought together two 
people who are distasteful to each other, she has, either through 
a want of tact or lack of knowledge of the true state of affairs, 
made the mistake ; and while men undoubtedly have a perfect 
right to be exclusive as to their acquaintances, they should 
remember that they possess so many more ways of knowing 
facts that may reflect on a gentleman than women do, that 
the lady's mistake must be laid to a pardonable ignorance, 
rather than anything else ; and a true gentleman would prefer 
to submit to a personal annoyance rather than subject a lady 
to mortification of any sort. 

Introducing Relatives. — A mother always introduces her 
son or daughter, a husband his wife, or a wife her husband, 
without asking permission. In introducing members of your 
family, be sure not only to specify the relationship but to 
mention the name, for, if one of the parties be married, the 



330 



YOU AND I. 



name can only be guessed at, as, for instance, if a married 
lady were to say: " This is my brother Harry," or "my sister 
Charlotte." We once knew something of a wag, who, on 
such an occasion, when something like the latter form was 
used, responded: " Happy to meet you, sister." 

Bestowing Titles. — Always give a man his appropriate 
title. If you are introducing a clergyman, say " the Rev. Mr. 
Gray; if a doctor of divinity, " the Rev. Dr. Gray. If he is a 
member of Congress, he should be called " Honorable," and 
the branch of Congress to which he belongs, specified. 

In introducing the President, we say " Mr. President," but 
his wife, were she introducing him, would say, " the Presi- 
dent." A lady, in introducing her husband, should always 
give him his proper title. Some ladies do not do this, think- 
ing it savors of ostentation, but there are good and sufficient 
reasons for so doing, else it would not have become usage. 
Mrs. Grant, with her usual modesty, could not bring herself to 
call her distinguished husband anything but simply, Mr. Grant, 
but no one even thought of considering it in her case the 
slightest breach of etiquette. 

Tact of the Introducer. — It will sometimes break the ice 
between two people and start a subject for conversation if the 
introducer will add something to the mere form of introduc- 
tion, as, for instance: "This is Mr. Bromley, whose picture 
you have so often seen," or, " Miss Murdoch, whose book, 
' Summer Saunterings,' you liked so well." If the persons 
are not noted in any way, but have come from some other 
place, the mere fact of mentioning that Miss Burney is 
from St. Paul, or Mr. Erskine from Washington, may imme- 
diately suggest topics of conversation, and bridge over what 
else might have been an awkward silence. Some people are 
blessed with a ready wit and infinite tact, and can always find 



IN TROD UCTIONS. 



331 



something to say upon being introduced, while others, who are 
often very bright and intellectual, go down into the depths of 
misery and humiliation, while casting about for something with 
which to begin the conversation. To such, a little help in this 
way is a positive boon, and to even the ready-witted, an aid 
which never comes amiss. The poet Cowper has well said: 

c * Our sensibilities are so acute, 
The fear of being silent makes us mute." 

Obligatory Introductions. — The friend who is visiting at 
your house must be introduced to all callers, and the latter, if 
courteous, will pay the visitor any little attentions which may 
lie in their power. 

Among Gentlemen. — In introducing one gentleman to an- 
other, the younger should be presented to the elder, the inferior 
in social position to the superior. For instance, if you wished 
to introduce your friend who is unknown to the poet Whittier, 
you would say: "Mr. Whittier, permit me to introduce Mr. 
Brown, r or, " Senator Brownell, this is my friend Mr. Gray." 
The person introduced in such instances must wait for the 
elder or superior to extend his hand, and never take the initi- 
ative himself. Hand-shaking, upon being introduced, is quite 
the common usage among gentlemen; but one should not 
immediately feel snubbed if this ceremony is omitted, as some 
men have the peculiarity of never, except on rare occasions, 
extending a hand to strangers. 

A gentleman is always deferential to his elders, and, other 
things being equal, a young gentleman will never omit to 
raise his hat or give up his seat in a street car to a friend 
whose age entitles him to this consideration. In many ways 
the aged man deserves the same deference from the young 
man, that the latter would pay to a lady. Nothing is so true 
an indication of good or bad manners in the young person of 



332 



YOU AND I. 



either sex as his or her conduct toward the aged. In these 
days, which might be called the youth's decadence, when, as 
Henry James, jr., declares, " the little boys kick your shins, and 
the little girls offer to slap your face,'" there is danger of a 
growing laxity in one of the first principles of good manners, 
a proper deference to age. While moderation and good sense 
will teach us to steer aside from the severe code of our grand- 
fathers, when the youth were crushed into perpetual silence 
in the presence of their elders, and boys were flogged for for- 
getting to raise their hats to an unknown man who happened 
to pass, there is still cause for apprehension, not only for the 
manners but the morals of a people who take too violent a 
rebound in the other direction." 

Introductions for Business Purposes. — Suppose a man is 
introduced by another, who says: " This is Mr. Belford, whom 
I think you can rely on to do the carpenter work of which 
you spoke;" you would not in such an instance extend your 
hand, as the man has not presented to you one whom he wishes 
you to consider a friend, but merely a workman whose rela- 
tions to you will be simply of a business character. The car- 
penter may be equal to you in breeding and attainments, and 
under different circumstances, if introduced to you as a 
claimant for your social recognition, should be met with a 
hand-shake and the same consideration you would extend to 
any gentleman. 

Suppose the person is a candidate for the position of your 
private secretary, confidential clerk, or, perhaps*, a possible 
partner, your attitude toward him would be different from that 
of the former case. You are likely to be brought into close 
business relations with him, to exchange certain confidences, 
and, in some degree, to consider him as a personal friend; 
therefore he is entitled to your hand and a certain amount 
of cordiality on your first meeting. 



IN TR OD UC TIONS. 



338 



Also, if you be Croesus with nothing to recommend you but 
your decent morals and money, and are introduced to a great 
artist whom you wish to commission to paint you a picture, or 
a great writer whom you wish to write you an article, you 
should not only be very quick to extend your hand, but feel 
that the other has a perfect right to extend his first, and honors 
you by so doing. Genius is always entitled to deference ; and 
money, even if it can buy the work of a great man, should 
remember its inferiority in his presence. The Florentine Duke, 
whose wealth set Michael Angelo an unworthy task, has 
reaped the scorn of centuries; while the great emperor, who 
stooped to pick up from the floor the brush which Titian had 
dropped, added to an immortal name one more laurel, which 
the ages love to keep ever green. 

Letters of Introduction. — Much discrimination should be 
used in giving friendly letters of introduction. You should 
only give such a letter to a person with whom you are thor- 
oughly acquainted. You must remember that you make 
yourself, in a way, responsible for the one thus introduced. 
You should also be careful not to take the liberty of address- 
ing such a letter to any but a friend of long standing. You 
have no right to ask another to entertain, or even to extend 
the slightest courtesy to your friend, unless you can confidently 
count on his not only being willing, but glad to do so. You 
should also consider whether the two people thus brought 
together will be congenial to each other, else you may incur 
the displeasure of both. 

Another thing to be considered, is whether the person 
addressed is in a position to be able to spend the time in show- 
ing the bearer the attention which he would wish to give. If 
not so situated, he is at liberty, after meeting the stranger 
kindly, to apologize for his lack of time; but this may be an 
uncomfortable thing for him to do, or he may make some con- 



334 



YOU AND I. 



siderable sacrifice to avoid the necessity of so doing. There- 
fore, one should exercise discretion in making such demands 
upon very busy people and those whose pecuniary limitations 
will not allow them to give up their time to the entertainment 
of strangers. If you conclude to introduce a friend to another 
so situated, the circumstances of the latter should be explained 
to the bearer of the letter. 

Business Letters of Introduction. — Where the card or 
letter pertains to business only, the person to whom it is 
addressed is in no way bound to extend any social courtesies 
to the bearer. He is obliged to meet the stranger politely and 
kindly, out of deference to the friend who has introduced him, 
and may go as much further as his inclination leads him, but 
is at liberty to draw the line at the door of his office, shop, or 
studio, if he wishes. 

Delivering a Letter of Introduction. — A letter or card of 
introduction, if relating to business, may be delivered at once 
in person. If of a social nature, it should be enclosed with 
card and address and sent by messenger or post. If the stay 
in the city is to be very short, the bearer of such a letter may 
call and send up the letter with a card. If addressed to a lady, 
a gentleman may always take the latter course, in order to 
ascertain when she will be able to receive him. 

Obligations to the Bearer of a Letter of Introduction. — The 
receipt of a letter or card of introduction should be acknowl- 
edged by a gentleman in person within two or three days at 
the longest. If the recipient be a lady, she should immediately 
write, asking the gentleman to call, and naming the hour at 
which she will receive him. If both be ladies, it is imperative 
that the one to whom the letter is addressed should immedi- 
ately call on the stranger. Where response in person is 
impossible, by reason of sickness or some other cause, an 



IN TROD UCTIONS. 



335 



explanation should be sent. Neglect to notice a letter of intro- 
duction is not only a slight to the stranger, but an insult to the 
friend who introduces him. 

The new acquaintance may be invited to go to some place 
of amusement, to drive, to meet others of an evening, or to 
dine with the family. Here the civilities may cease, unless 
the host or hostess wishes to further extend them. 

The form for letters of introduction will be found in the 
chapter, " How to Write a Letter. 17 



IN THE STREET. 



PON the public promenade 
one's manners are 
judged by strangers, 
who cannot be expected 
to mingle with their ver- 
dicts the charity or gener- 
osity of a friend, or to regard 
'other than scrutinizingly and crit- 
:ally, the person who in any way 
attracts their notice. It is therefore of 
the utmost importance that one should look to 
his behavior under such circumstances. 

The True Lady. — The true lady never intentionally 
attracts undue attention to herself by any extreme pecul- 
iarity of dress, manner or gait. She does not wear, on a 
marketing or shopping excursion, a dress suitable only for a 
dinner party ; she does not talk across the street, or to any one 
in an upper window — unless, indeed, it be a very quiet, retired 
spot, and the occasion an unusual one; she affects none of the 
ungraceful, idiotic gaits, such as some unknown authority 
occasionally pronounces "fashionable," and which, when she 
has distorted her walk into a kangaroo hop or a masculine 

336 



IN THE STREET. 



stride, she has suddenly to unlearn by hearing that something 
else has " come in." 

She does not giggle, laugh or speak loudly, nor rush fran- 
tically up to her friends and kiss them at meeting or parting. 
She remembers that the cold, critical world is looking on, and 
that which would be perfectly fitting in her own drawing-room 
or on a sequestered country road, is not proper on the pave- 
ments of a crowded city street. 

Who Bows First? — The old custom was that a lady should 
always bow first, but the later and more sensible one is that 
the one who first recognizes the other shall bow, whether it 
be the lady or the gentleman. The only exception to this is 
when a gentleman meets a lady on the street for the first time 
after being introduced to her. He will, in this instance, wait 
to be recognized. 

Street Acquaintances. — It would be almost superfluous to 
add that a true lady never makes the acquaintance of strangers 
on the street, were it not that some young girls who, at other 
times, convey the impression of being ladies, have been known 
to do such things. It is a pity they could not know how 
much they lose, and how very dearly they pay for their "fun." 
Purity and dignity in a woman is " the immediate jewel " of 
her soul. The young lady who indulges in street flirtations 
should ask herself how she would feel if suddenly introduced 
in her friend's house to a gentleman before whom she had 
lowered herself by an attempt at flirtation in public. It is 
possible he might be the one whose respect she would 
especially value. Can she ever hope to regain it after having 
lost it in such a way? 

In a Crowd. — If a gentleman and lad)' are walking in any 
public place, where, by reason of the crowd, they are com- 
22 



338 



YOU AND I. 



pelled to proceed singly, the gentleman should always precede 
his companion. 

Intrusive Inquiries. — Do not ask a person whom you 
happen to meet, where he is going, what he is doing in that 
part of the city at that time of day, or what he has in the 
parcel which he carries. Inquisitiveness and intrusive curiosity 
are decided marks of ill-breeding. 

Stopping to Talk. — When a gentleman meets a lady on 
the street, it is the privilege of the latter to pause to speak or 
go on as she sees fit. If the gentleman has anything which 
he wishes to say, he should not stop the lady, but turn and 
walk with her until he has finished what he wishes to say, 
and, when leaving, he raises his hat and bows politely. 

Walking ivith a Lady. — A gentleman walking with a lady 
should, if the path be narrow, see that his companion has the 
smoothest or dryest portion, taking the wet or rough part 
himself. It is scarcely necessary to give any gentleman a 
reason for this, but if one is required it is obviously this: the 
man is generally physically the stronger of the two, and his 
shoes and clothing are better adapted to " roughing it " than 
a woman's. He will also, if the street be crowded, place him- 
self upon the side of the lady where he can best protect her 
from being jostled. The old custom of placing the lady on 
the inside of the walk is not now scrupulously observed, as, in 
turning, the gentleman was frequently obliged to change, and 
anything like punctiliousness and fussiness are always to be 
avoided. 

A gentleman should relieve a lady of any parcel which she 
may be carrying. 

A gentleman, accompanying a lady, should not carry his 
hands in his pockets, nor smoke. Neither of these things 



IN THE STREET. 



339 



may annoy her in the least, but they will show to others a 
lack of respect for her presence, and are, therefore discour- 
tesies which no well-bred man will offer to a lady. 

Offering the Ann to a Lady. — A gentleman, in the evening, 
always offers his arm to a lady whom he is escorting. In the 
day time, it is not customary, unless the parties are husband 
and wife. Of course there are exceptions to this rule, as in 
cases where the comfort or convenience of the lady may 
depend upon such assistance. 

Keeping Step. — A gentleman, in the habit of taking very 
long steps, will try to moderate his stride when walking with ' 
a lady, and the latter in turn will adapt her pace as far as pos- 
sible to his. 

Answering Shiestions. — A gentleman will endeavor to 
answer courteously all inquiries from strangers, which are 
politely addressed to him. He should bear in mind that he 
may yet require of some unknown person the same service 
when himself in a strange city. If the inquirer be a lady, he 
should lift his hat when answering. When a policeman or 
uniformed official can be found, ladies should always go to 
such for information, rather than to strange gentlemen. 

Staring.— No gentleman is ever guilty of boldly staring at 
a lady, whether from street corners, in front of hotels, or upon 
the promenade. 

A Lady Walking with Two Gentlemen. — When two gen- 
tlemen are walking with a lady, they will place her between 
them, instead of both remaining on one side. 

The Salutation. — A well-bred lady will neither be stiff, 
capricious nor demonstrative in her public recognition of gen- 
tlemen. In bowing, a slight smile is all that she accords her 
dearest friend upon the street; but her bitter foe must also be 



no 



YOU AND I. 



served in the same way, if she bow at all. She has no right 
to make an exhibition of private pique in a public place, as the 
victim of such retaliation may be unjustly accused by spec- 
tators of more sins than those of which he is guilty. She should 
either bow politely or take no notice of the person she is passing. 

These latter remarks apply as well to the gentleman. No 
matter how antagonistic his feelings may be to the lady who 
bows to him, his salutation must be as polite as to his partic- 
ular friend, for the same reasons given above. He may not 
recall the face of the lady, but he must be sure to lift his hat 
politely and return the civility. A lady is sometimes very 
much changed in appearance by the transformation from 
evening dress to street attire, but even if he is quite sure that 
she has made a mistake, all the more should he return the 
bow, not to add to her mortification, should she discover her 
blunder. 

No gentleman will take offence at the formal street recog- 
nition from a lady, who had at the last party treated him 
most graciously. If he wishes for more cordialty, he will 
seek it in her own home, where she is privileged to be gracious, 
and not in public, where she is obliged to put on a mantle of 
reserve. 

How to Bow. — A gentleman in bowing should not act as if 
the burden of raising his hat were rather too much to ask of 
him, or as if it were an intolerable bore to be disposed of as 
soon as possible, and he wishes you had taken the other side 
of the street, or as if, like Beau Brummel with his tie, he 
wishes to distinguish himself by that particular brand of bow. 
The careless nod is as much to be avoided as the elaborate 
flourish which attracts the attention of every one on the block. 
Something near the " happy medium " is to raise the hat 
slightly to one side as the head is inclined, and neither evince 
haste or premeditated elaboration in the movement. 



IN THE STREET. 341 

Joining a Lady. — A gentleman should not take the liberty 
of walking with a lady acquaintance, whom he happens to 
meet upon the street, unless he be a welcome visitor at her 
home. 

Keeping an Engagement. — The friend who stops you 
while on your way to fulfill an engagement, will not consider 
it an impoliteness if you courteously acquaint him with the 
fact, and release yourself from the delay which a long talk 
might occasion. 

Bowing to Tour Friend? s Friend. — If two or more gentle- 
men are walking together, and a lady bows to one of the 
number, all raise their hats at the same time. A gentleman, u . m 
walking with a lady, bows to any lady or gentlemen . 
friends whom she may recognize. 

If a gentleman is obliged to stop a , | 

friend who is accompan- -~~ _ - | 

ied by a stranger, . - _- f 

he apologizes 
the latter for 
doing,, and 
bows to him 
when leaving. 

Civilities 
to Ladies. — 
When a gen- 
1 1 e m a n ac- 
companies a 
lady who 
wishes to en- 
ter a store, 
house, or 

room, he should hold the door open and allow her to go in 




342 



YOU AND I. 



first. He will also extend the same civility to any strange 
lady who happens to be entering at the same time as himself. 

Passing Pedestrians. — In passing people, the rule is to keep 
to the right. If you are a gentleman, walking alone, you may 
give the preferred side, whichever it be, to a lady, an aged 
person, or to any one carrying a heavy load. Never turn a 
corner at full speed, for fear of a collision. 

Crossing the Street. — When it can be avoided, a lady should 
not run across a street to escape an approaching vehicle, as it 
is both dangerous and inelegant. If detained upon a crossing 
by several vehicles, it is better to stand still than to endeavor 
to dodge them and get across. In the first instance, the drivers 
will divine your intention and try to keep clear of you, in the 
second, you may be run over while they are seeking to avoid 
such a catastrophe. Of course, there are cases of reckless 
driving where only exceeding celerity will save the pedestrian ; 
but such drivers in a crowded thoroughfare belong not in the 
consideration of etiquette, but in the strong grasp of the law,, 
and the criminal court. 

In the Street Car or Omnibus. — In all public conveyances, 
passengers should endeavor, as much as possible, to make 
room for new comers. No gentleman, unless ill, or feeble 
from age, will retain his seat while a lady stands. But a lady 
must not forget that a gentleman, in surrendering to her his 
seat, is doing her a favor, and that he should have her thanks, 
as he would for any less common courtesy. A lady may 
accept with propriety any little service from a strange gentle- 
man, such as removing parcels on entering or leaving a public 
vehicle, closing an umbrella, or passing fans. A polite bow 
or simple " thank you " are the proper returns for such 
assistance. 

Loud talking or heated discussions are likely to give the 



IN THE STREET. 343 

participants therein an unpleasant amount of attention from 
the rest of the passengers. 

A gentleman will not cross his legs, extend his feet, or 
plant his umbrella in the way of other passengers. Neither 
will he spread out a newspaper and hold it at arm's length, so 
that his neighbors on either side of him are extinguished 
behind elbows and reading matter. Xo man can read more 
than one column at a time profitably, and any newspaper can 
be folded so as to adapt itself to the exigencies of a crowded 
car with the greatest of ease and dispatch. 

The Umbrella. — A gentleman walking with two ladies in 
a rain storm where there is but one umbrella, should give it 




to his companions, and walk outside. When three people 
walk under one umbrella, the one in the centre is the only one 



YOU AND I. 



protected, the other two not only getting the rain, but the 
■drippings of the umbrella in addition. 

Precedence on the Stairs. — A gentleman should precede a 
lady going up a flight of stairs, and allow her to go first when 
descending. 

Hack Fare. — A gentleman should never keep a lady wait- 
ing while he disputes with a hack-driver. If the man has 
over-charged, or is guilty of any other offense, quietly take 
his number, and report him to the proper authorities. 

Shopping'. — A lady, when asking for goods in a store or — 
as the English would say — a shop, will prefer her request in 
a polite manner, rather than in the authoritative " I want " 
such an article. 

Do not take hold of a piece of goods which another person 
is examining; or if you have not time to wait until he or she 
has finished, politely apologize, and ask permission to 
examine it. 

Do not interrupt acquaintances who are making purchases 
to ask their attention to your own, nor give your opinion 
regarding theirs unless it is asked. 

To make sneering remarks respecting the goods, is discour- 
teous to the saleman. 

Do not indulge in a prolonged chat with a friend while the 
clerk stands waiting your commands. The latter class have 
some rights which we are bound to respect; and they are 
entitled to about the same share of consideration that other 
people expect, strange as this assertion may sound to some 
shoppers. 

If it takes you a long time to decide as to a purchase, and 
others are waiting to be served, ask the salesman to attend to 
their wants while you are making up your mind. 



IN THE STREET. 



345 



Do not whisper, or attract attention by loud talking or 
laughing. If the quality or price does not suit you, do not 
make many words over the fact, but go somewhere else. 

If you are a salesman or a saleswoman, do not appear to 
know what the purchaser wants better than he does himself. 
Such intrusiveness is always distasteful, and leads customers 
to avoid you in the future. To blankly contradict an opinion 
regarding a shade or quality, especially if a lady be matching 
goods, and be possessed of ordinary eye-sight, is insulting; and 
to suggest that she can do better elsewhere, is an offense which 
she will be perfectly excusable in reporting to the proprietors. 

Some people can be urged or wheedled by a clerk into buy- 
ing things, but the latter should be pretty sure of his subject 
before he pursues this course to any extent, else he may dis- 
gust a possible purchaser so that he or she will flee in self- 
defense, and go somewhere else, where a decision can be 
made in peace. 



SALUTATIONS. 




^^^^ / ^ N a rude state of society," 
says a certain writer, " every 
salutation is to this day an act 
of worship. Hence the com- 
monest acts, phrases and signs 
of courtesy, with which we are 
now familiar, date from those 
earlier stages when the strong 
hand ruled, and the inferior demonstrated 
his allegiance by studied servility." This 
may be true of the stereotyped form, — the 
letter of the salutation, but cannot be of the spirit. 
We prefer to think that since human beings first 
trod the earth, they instinctively felt the necessity of in some 
way acknowledging each other's presence, that the mere fact of 
eye meeting eye must have caused them to feel very much the 
same pleasurable sensation which we now experience in com- 
ing within the range of vision of a friend, and that the heart 
naturally set about inventing some graceful and fitting outward 
expression of this recognition. True, this has crystalized now 
into a mere formula, and empty enough it is sometimes, we all 
know, but, as Carlyle says: "What we call 'formulas' are 
not in their origin bad ; they are indisputably good. Formula 
is method, habitude; found wherever man is found. Formulas 
fashion themselves as paths do, as beaten highways leading 

346 



YOU AND I. 



347 



toward some sacred, high object, whither many men are bent. 
Consider it: One man full of heartfelt, earnest impulse finds 
out a way of doing something — were it uttering his soul's 
reverence for the Highest, were it but of fitly saluting his 
fellow-man. An inventor was needed to do that, a poet ; he 
has articulated the dim, struggling thought that dwelt in his 
own and many hearts." And so it is that though when we 
wave our hand to a friend, we may be imitating the ancient 
Romans, who, in reverence before the statues of their gods, 
stood solemnly moving the right hand to the lips and casting 
it, as if they had cast kisses, we are still recognizing our friend 
in the most fitting and graceful manner of which we have any 
knowledge; and though the heart go not with the form, still 
it is better to have some form than none. 

Novel Salutations of Different Nations. — Each race and 
nationality has its own peculiar forms of greeting. Many of 
them seem odd and ungraceful to us, but it is quite likely ours 
would impress them in the same way. We all remember the 
remarks of the Shah of Persia, on looking at a ball-room full of 
whirling figures : " We do this much better in our country ; 
we hire others to dance for us." No doubt the African whose 
idea of a cordial greeting is expressed by rubbing his toes 
gently against those of his friend, or the Laplander whose 
nose is laid affectionately against his neighbor's, would con- 
sider our forms of salutation decidedly inelegant. The stately 
Oriental, who seems always to have plenty of time on his 
hands, must needs greet his neighbor in the same slow, digni- 
fied manner in which he does everything else. He doesn't 
slap you on the shoulder, with the explosiveness of a fire- 
cracker, shout " Howdy! " and disappear, as do some of the 
inhabitants of this great and glorious republic ; but if he be an 
Arab of the desert, he places his right hand impressively on 



■343 



SALUTATIONS. 



his breast, and bows low, as he repeats the sentence: " God 
grant you a happy morning," or, " If God wills it, you are 
well." If he is addressing a person of high rank, he bends 
nearly to the earth and kisses the hem of his garment. The 
Turk bows slowly with the arms folded and the head bent 
very low. The Hindoo nearly touches the ground with his 
face, to express his deference. The Chinese evince a mind on 
hospitable thoughts intent, for, after bowing low, they immedi- 
ately ask, " Have you eaten?" Herodotus sa}^s that the 
Egyptians drop the hand upon the knee and solicitously inquire 
"How do you perspire?" No doubt in the dry, burning air 
of that desert land, perspiration was a real luxury, and natur- 
ally became a desirable condition. The ceremonious Spaniard 
salutes with, " God be with you," and, if you are a stranger, 
immediately places his house and all his worldly goods at your 
disposal. He entreats you to make his home your hotel, 
studio or office as you may require, but would be utterly 
dumbfounded if you were to take him at his word, and at 
heart does not possess one-tenth of the genuine hospitality of 
the blunt and inelegant American who says, " Come, take a 
snack with me." The Neapolitan in the land of cathedrals, 
piously exclaims, " Grow in holiness," and the Hungarian 
blesses you with " God keep you well," a beautiful salutation 
and fitting for any land or people. When the Pole leaves you 
he kisses you on the shoulder and says, " Be ever well." The 
Moors salute the Great Mogul by touching the earth with the 
right hand, then laying the hand upon the breast, next lifting 
it to the sky, and repeating these gestures three times with 
great rapidity. This same people have a startling and not 
altogether desirable mode of greeting a stranger. They ride 
toward him at full speed, and when at close range fire a pistol 
over his head. The effect of such a cordial demonstration 
toward a Texan cowboy might result in a speedy termination 



YOU AND I. 



349 



of the friendship thus begun. There generally have to be two 
to carry on a friendship. The German asks, " How do you 
find yourself? " and, in parting says, " Leben sie wohl " — " Live 
well," — while the Frenchman, with a low bow, says: " How 
do you carry yourself?" The Japanese rub both knees and 
draw in the breath in a long inhalation, like a deep sigh, before 
speaking. The longer the breath, the greater the degree of 
respect shown. The latter part of the ceremony is said to 
be due to their not wishing to pollute with their breath the 
air that the person they are greeting must breathe. The 
Englishman or American salutes with, " How do you do?" 
" Good morning," or " Good evening," accompanied by a 
cordial grasp of the hand, or simply a bow, as the inclination. 




or convenience may suggest ; and he never forgets to raise his- 
hat when he meets a lady. 

An English physician in recounting his experience in a Per- 
sian harem, tells how the eldest lady met him with, " Salaam, 
Sahib; you are welcome. Tea, tea for the Sahib!" and at 



o50 



SALUTATIONS. 



parting, "Wallah," — with a little laugh — "I have forgotten 
why we sent for you. Your footsteps, however, have been 
fortunate, for our hearts are no longer sad." He adds that 
they shook hands, and the lady gave him a beautiful bunch of 
narcissus as he left. 

Antiquity of Certain Customs. — Shaking hands is said to 
date back to the ancient custom of adversaries, when treating 
of a truce, taking hold of the weapon hand to ensure against 
treachery. 

The gentleman who removes his glove to take a lady's hand, 
is but perpetuating the custom of the knight whose iron gaunt- 
let would indeed have been all too hard for the palm of the 
fair lady of the castle. Gentlemen now scarcely even remove 
the glove before shaking hands, contenting themselves with 
apologizing for its presence, or taking no notice of it whatever. 

The common word, " Sir," which we now use in addressing 
all sorts and conditions of men, is derived from signeur, sieur, 
and originally meant lord, king, ruler, and, in its patriarchal 
sense, father. " Sire,*" a title much affected by the ancient 
noble families of France, was also commonly used in address- 
ing their kings. 

" Madam " or " Madame " means u your exalted," or " your 
highness," and was originally applied only to ladies of the 
highest rank. " To bare the head was at first an act of sub- 
mission to gods and rulers," and the very word, "salutation", 
is derived from u salutatio" the daily homage paid by a 
Roman. client to his patron. 

The Bow. — " The bow," says La Fontaine, " is a note 
drawn at sight; if you acknowledge it, your must immediately 
pay the full amount." One of the most positive and apparent 
indications of elegant or unpolished manners in a person is the 
way in which he bows. You remember how one clay on the 



YOU AND /. 



351 



promenade a friend saluted you in a way that made all your 
horizon rose-color, and your whole walk a benediction; and 
another day when one roused all the animosity and old Adam 
there was in you, and you became a veritable cynic looking 
for an honest man. We remember a courtly gentleman of 
the old school — " Lord keep his memory green,' 1 — whose bow 
was a mingling of old time deference and of Utopia to come, 
and who invariably invested us with increased self-respect for 
a whole day afterwards. We also remember another person 
whose salute — if it could so be dignified — was such a mix- 
ture of I-don't-want-to^but-I-suppose-I-must, and you'll-take- 
that-for-a-bow,-or-have-nothing, that " hatred, malice, and all 
^charitableness," immediately took possession of us, and we 
spent part of the remainder of the walk reiterating to ourself 
how we would cut that individual the next time we saw him, 
and the rest of the time despising ourself for becoming so 
incensed over such a small matter. 

To know how to bow well may seem a very unimportant 
thing, but some one will be sure to gauge your knowledge of 
society by the way in which you do it. Air and manner are 
more expressive than words. Says Whately: "Good man- 
ners are a part of good morals; and when form is too much 
neglected, true politeness suffers diminution." An English 
author has said: " You should never speak to an acquaintance 
without a smile in your eyes," which is a very good rule by 
which to go, in the expression of countenance proper to salu- 
tation in public places. Decidedly the pleased expression 
should not expand into a broad grin, nor the sense of propri- 
ety become so appalling as to stiffen one's countenance into an 
impassive, vacant exterior. If you must commit one extreme 
or the other, it is better to avoid the latter than the former, 
for in the first place you only make yourself ridiculous ; in the 
second you may make an enemy. " Aspire to calm confidence 



352 



SAL UTA TIONS. 



rather than loftiness in your manner of salutation," and never 
forget to add a flavor of cordiality to the greeting. It is 
perhaps useless to add that the bow should be prompt, and as 
soon as the eyes meet. 

Between Gentlemen. — One gentleman bowing to another 
may touch the hat or make some gesture of the hand, but a 
careless nod is something which no gentleman allows himself 
to give, even in his most hurried moments. 

In bowing to one much his elder or superior in position, a 
gentleman removes his hat. The body need not be bent in 
bowing, an 
inclination of the 
head being su 
cient. The trr 
cultured young 
man will al- 
ways lift his 
hat to the sil- 
very - head- 
ed old gen- 
tleman with 
the same re- 
spect and 
courtesy he 
would show 
to a lady. 
The hat is 
only slightly 
from the head, as the 
sweeping flourish of the 
head-covering, which enabled 
world to judge of the lining and of the make there, is now 
obsolete. 




YOU AND I. 



Always Return a Bow. — It is polite to return a bow, 
although you may not know the one bowing to you. Either 
the person knows you, and you do not at the moment remem- 
ber him, or he has mistaken you for some one else. In either 
case he is entitled to civility as his intentions have been 
courteous. 

Saluting a Lady.—K. gentleman walking with a lady 
returns a bow made to her, whether by a lady or gentleman, 
always lifting his hat, which is in defer- 
ence to his companion, whose friends 
acquaint- 
ances must 
be worthy 
of his re- 
spect, if 
they are 
of hers. If 
he is ac- 
company- 
ing her 
across a 
drawing - 
room he 
also bows 
to any one |f 
whom she j 
may recognize. 
If two gentle- 
men are walking or riding, 
and one of them is recognized by a lady who happens to 
meet them, both should lift their hats. 

A gentleman driving a spirited horse may sometimes require 
both hands to manage the reins } in which case he should bow 

23 




354 



SALUTA TIONS. 



rather lower than usual to make up for his inability to raise 
his hat. A rider of a bicycle or spirited horse may possibly 
be in the same predicament, in which case a like course would 
be proper. Among American gentlemen it is quite customary 
to touch the hat with the whip by way of salute, but this is 
considered bad form by foreigners, and should never be 
indulged in while abroad. 

Recognition of a Lady. — A gentleman lifts his hat in offer- 
ing any kind of service to a lady whether she be a friend or 
entirely unknown to him. If he passes her fare in a street car, 
opens a door for her, or responds to an inquiry, he raises his 
hat respectfully at the moment of service not allowing his eyes 
to rest upon her. He also observes the same civility when 
making an apology. A true gentleman will not extend these 
courtesies to those who are young and charming, and be obliv- 
ious to the aged or ugly; he will remember that it is a tribute 
to womankind, and if there is in him any flavor of the fine old 
knightly nature, he will be sure to treat all alike. The high- 
bred man never forgets that " rank imposes obligation. 1 ' 

A gentleman must not u cut" a lady, as that is always conceded 
to be the latter's prerogative. If she so far forgets herself as 
not to deserve the title of " lady," it is possible a gentleman 
may be driven to this extreme alternative, but he will always 
rather avoid, as delicately as possible, the woman whom he 
has good and sufficient reasons for not recognizing. 

In bowing to a lady, some men have lately acquired the 
awkward and absurd habit of clutching the hat and, by a 
sudden sliding movement, bringing it down in front of the face 
in a way that totally extinguishes the features and leads one 
to think they are trying to conceal a black eye or some other 
mortifying facial blemish. The hat should be raised with a 
slightly upward and side movement. 



YOU AND I. 



355 



A Lady^s Duty. — A lady should observe the same deference 
in saluting another who is much her elder that a young man 
does toward an aged man. Again, elderly people who have 
large circles of acquaintances sometimes confuse the faces of 
the younger portion of society with whom they have been 
brought in contact, and so wait for them to give the first sign 
of recognition. A lady should always bow to a gentleman to 
whom she has been introduced, unless she has good reasons 
for not doing so. She need no longer feel the necessity of 
bowing first, as was explained in the chapter on " Introduc- 
tions," unless it be the first meeting after the introduction, in 
which case she should be very careful to recognize the gentle- 
man, not waiting for him to bow, if she wishes to continue the 
acquaintance. 

On the continent the gentleman always bows first, and 
although our manners are becoming familiar to Europeans, a 
German lady who took the initiative in bowing, would doubt- 
less be considered forward by her own countrymen. 

Shaking Hands. — One would just as soon shake a wilted cab- 
bage leaf as a limp hand, or manipulate an old-fashioned churn, 
as to submit to the pump-handle movement common to some 
people in salutation. Then there is the man who grasps your 
hand with such a vise-like pressure that you are almost forced 
to exclaim, " let go, 11 and another who forgets to let go, but 
continues to emphasize his remarks by unexpected jerks at 
your fingers. To anyone who has had experience with these 
different styles of hand-shaking, it is needless to say " don't." 

A gentleman never attempts to shake hands with a lady 
unless she first offers her hand, except in cases where he is 
very much her senior and an old friend of the family, or 
greatly her superior in rank or distinction. A lady or gentle- 
man always rises when giving the hand, unless illness compels 



356 



SALUTATIONS. 



her or him to remain seated. As a rule the more public the 
place the less call there is for hand-shaking. But if there be 
special reasons for so doing, as in the instance of one gentle- 
man bringing up another with the remark, " I have long 
wanted you to know my friend Mr. Brown, 11 or if Mr. Brown 
happens to bring a letter of introduction, then the hand-shake 
should never be omitted, and it should be a cordial one, too. 

The mistress of the house should offer her hand to her 
invited guests, and to any stranger brought to her house by 
a friend. 

Where an introduction is simply for dancing, hand-shaking 
is omitted. 

A Beautiful Custom. — In France the gentleman who 
happens to be passing a doorway when the dead is being car- 
ried forth, or pauses for a funeral cortege in a quiet street, 
invariably uncovers his head with respectful deference. This 
custom is also becoming general in our own country, and is 
but a fitting and delicate recognition of the sorrow that sooner 
or later comes to all humanity. 

The Kiss. — This expression of affection, so sacred to lovers, 
friends and relatives, is never by refined people paraded in 
public. The habit affected by some ladies of kissing on the 
streets, or whenever they may happen to meet, is considered 
vulgar by the most elegant mannered. 

The Kiss of Respect. — It is customary in Europe for gen- 
tlemen to kiss the hand of a lady at meeting or parting, as a 
mark of esteem or respect. This graceful and courtly saluta- 
tion is however now quite obsolete in America. 



RIDING AND DRIVING. 





will be hailed with pleasure by all 



becoming more and more popular, 



XE of the most delightful and 
health-giving of amusements is 
horseback riding, and the fact 
that it seems, every dav. to be 



who enjoy this exhilarating exercise. The rules which 
govern the etiquette of riding are not only very elaborate, but 
are exceedingly important. 

Learn Hov: to Ride. — In almost all cities there are riding- 
schools;- but where no such advantage can be had, there will 
surely be found some one who rides well, and can be prevailed 
on to give a beginner a few hints. One will scarcely care to 
appear in public on horseback until he or she understands the 
fost requirements of graceful riding, and can seem to be at 
ease. One of the first things to learn is to sit erect and in the 
middle of the saddle. Ladies are apt to lean to one side or 
the other. A line which would exactly cut the horse in two 
at the backbone, should also divide the rider in the same way. 
should one sketch a rear view of a lady upon horseback. 

The Duty of a Gentleman as Escort. — The first duty of a 
gentleman, who intends riding with a lady, is to see that her 

357 



353 



YOU AND I. 



horse is in good condition and one that can be easily managed. 
He must examine the saddle and bridle, and be careful that 
they are perfectly secure, as it is best to trust nothing so im- 
portant to the stable-man, without personal supervision. He 
must be sure to be punctual in keeping the appointment, as a 
lady should not be kept waiting. He should see that she is 
seated comfortably in her saddle before he, himself, mounts, 
and should place his horse at the right of hers. 

Helping a Lady to Mount. — The lady should stand at the 
left side of the horse, and as close to it as possible, with her 
skirts gathered in her left-hand, her right-hand upon the pom- 
mel, and her face toward the horse's head. The gentleman 
should stand facing the lady, at the horse's shoulder, and, 
stooping, hold his hand so that she can place her foot in it. 
The gentleman then gently lifts her foot as she springs, so as 
to aid her in gaining the saddle. He then puts her foot in the 
stirrup, arranges the skirt of her habit, and gives her the 
reins and the whip. 

Accompanying Ladies. — When a gentleman is riding with 
two or more ladies, his position is still at the right, unless one 
of them requests his presence near her, which she will not do 
unless some assistance is needed. It is the lady's privilege to 
decide the pace at which to ride. A gentleman will never 
urge her to a faster gait than she feels inclined to undertake, 
but will adapt the speed of his horse to that of hers. 

Helping a Lady to Alight. — The gentleman must always 
dismount first and place himself at the disposal of his com- 
panion. She first frees her knee from the pommel, and is 
careful to see that her habit is entirely disengaged. He then 
takes her left-hand in his right, and places his left-hand as a 
step for her foot. He then slowly lowers his hand, allowing 



RIDIXG AXD DRIVING. 



359 



her to gently reach the ground. A lady should never spring 
from the saddle. The voluminous drapery which custom 
compels her to wear when riding, is liable to catch upon some 
projection, and a serious accident may be the consequence. 




Meeting a Lady. — If a gentleman, riding alone, meet a 
lady with whom he wishes to enter into conversation, he 
should alight, and remain on foot while talking with her. 



360 



YOU AND I. 



Driving, — the Best Seat. — The most desirable seat in a 
double carriage is the one facing the horses, and gentlemen 
should always give that seat to the ladies. When only one 
lady and one gentleman are riding in a two-seated carriage, 
the gentleman should sit opposite the lady unless she invites 
him to sit beside her. The place of honor is the right-hand 
seat, facing the horses, and this is also the seat of the hostess, 
which she is expected to retain. Should she not be driving, 
she should offer her place to the oldest or most distinguished 
lady who is to accompany her. 

Entering a Carriage. — A person should always enter a 
carriage with her back to the seat, and thus avoid the neces- 
sity of turning around. It is best to be as expeditious as pos- 
sible, and not to seem fussy and particular about settling 
oneself. 

A gentleman should be careful not to trample upon or crush 
a lady's dress. 

Duties of a Gentleman. — In helping a lady to enter a car- 
riage, a gentleman should see that her dress does not brush 
against a muddy wheel, or hang outside when she is seated. 
He should provide a lap-robe to protect her from the dust or 
flying slush, and see that it is well tucked in. He should also 
hand to her, before taking his seat, her parasol, fan, or what- 
ever small belongings she may have, and see that she is com- 
fortable. 

A gentleman must alight first from a carriage, even if he 
has to pass before a lady in order to do so. 

Whenever a lady has occasion to leave a carriage, the gen- 
tleman accompanying her must alight and help her out, and 
when she wishes to resume her seat, he must again alight and 
assist her to do so. 



RIDING AND DRIVING. 



361 



Keep to the Right. — The rule of the road is always, in 
meeting or passing a vehicle, to keep to the right. 

Trust Tour Driver. — Nothing so annoys a person who is 
holding the reins as to have a companion imply or express any 
distrust of his ability to manage them successfully. The indi- 
vidual who is in continual fear of being upset or run away 
with, is not likely to be often asked for the pleasure of his or 
her company. If you discover that your driver is decidedly 
incompetent or reckless, you may suggest some improvement 
in his methods, apologizing for so doing. If you find that he 
does not improve, you should, in future, refuse all invitations 
to trust yourself to his tender mercies, rather than go with any 
hopes of reforming him. 

Dress for Driving. — A lady may wear what she pleases in 
a close carriage, but not in an open one, or on top of a coach. 
If, on the latter, or in an open vehicle, she insist on wearing 
an elaborate toilette of pink, yellow, or cream-white satin, she 
must expect to see staring eyes, and hear unpleasant remarks. 
A lady is very apt to pity or despise the poor girl perched up 
in cotton velvet and spangles on the top of a gilded chariot in 
a circus street-procession. But, O most marvellous inconsis- 
tency, she is quite ready the next moment to place herself on 
the top of a coach, arrayed in quite as conspicuous, though 
better materials, and to become the centre of interest to the 
same open-mouthed, vulgar mob. It is strange that a woman 
of refinement, who would not, for a moment, be seen on the 
street in a dinner or ball costume, can imagine that the same 
dress can be less conspicuous when viewed from the top of a 
coach, where all the accompaniments are calculated to attract 
attention. It is to be hoped that American ladies who have 
heretofore dressed in this fashion, may take note of the fact 
that the pretty and sensible Princess of Wales appears in 



362 



YOU AND I. 



navy-blue flannel, or some dark-tinted cloth, when she goes 
upon a coaching excursion; and that her ideas of taste and 
" good form " may be implicitly relied on. 

Delicately tinted dresses of silk or satin are in no way fitted 
to stand the sun, dust, or possible showers, incidental to a 
coaching trip. The most expensive creation of Worth or 
Pingat is apt to look the worse for wear before the excursion 
is over. Wraps look out of place with such toilettes, and if 
the breeze blows freshly, the fair wearer has to face the pos- 
sibilities of pneumonia, rheumatism, and all the other ills that 
come from exposure. A lady should remember that her dress 
can not be considered elegant if it is unsuitable to the occasion. 



SOIREES, MATINEES AND MUSICALS. 



Pleasures, or wrong or rightly understood, 
Our greatest evil, or our greatest good." 

— Pope. 




HE word, soiree, is probably from the 
French soir, the term for evening, and 
is simply another name for an evening 
party. Still, it has a distinctive flavor 
of its own, and, to the initiated, means an 
entertainment to which the cultured, intel- 
lectual and truly refined resort for real 
enjoyment. Dancing is not excluded, but 
is never made the chief end and aim of 
the gathering. To have a soiree, one must 
bring together people who can either talk or 
listen well. Young people who dance every num- 
ber on a programme and are happy only when they 
are dancing, are not the ones to ask to a soiree. Women 
whose stock of conversation is entirely comprised in dress and 
the servant-girl misery, or men who can think of nothing so 
interesting as the rise in wheat or the export of iron, are not 
desirable at such a party. People of ready wit, bright and 
original minds, and those who have an interest in literature, 
ethics, art or metaphysics, are the ones to ask to a soiree. 
The society woman, in the best acceptation of the term, which 

363 



364: 



SOIREES, MA TINEES AND MUSICALS. 



means a person of attractive, graceful manners, tact, educa- 
tion, broad information and good conversational powers, is the 
one to lead and organize these charming coteries. Such 
women, m every age, have attracted to their homes the cele- 
brated people of their time. 

Still, one not possessed of all these virtues may have, 
instead, some great and conspicuous talent, or the rare gift 
of genius, and, though his eccentricities be many, he will 
draw interesting people to him. 

Given, then, some literary, professional and society people, 
artists and dilettante, and, supposing them to be socially 
inclined, you have the materials from which to arrange a suc- 
cessful soiree. 

There may be music, recitations, readings, dancing and 
conversation, and some light refreshments, such as sandwiches 
and coffee, or ices and cake, served en buffet, as at receptions, 
or handed round. If the latter way is chosen, small tables, on 
which to set the cup or plate, are convenient. 

There need not be wealth or magnificent surroundings in 
order to give a successful party of this kind; indeed, the 
Misses Berry, who entertained the most illustrious men of 
their time, lived very unf ashionably ; and Madam Mole's fur- 
niture is described as exceedingly shabby, and the lighting 
anything but good. 

Money can procure delightful and congenial surroundings, 
but there are still, be it said for the consolation of those of 
limited means, some things in the social life it cannot accom- 
plish. The woman whose mansion is an oriental dream of 
luxury, and on whose ball-nights perfumes and music float 
from walls of flowers, like a veritable fairy-land, may remain 
forever powerless to charm under her roof the men and 
women who are the admiration of two hemispheres, and who 
willingly flock to the shabby parlor of a Miss Berry. 



YOU AND I. 



365 



Let it not be thought that a lion is a necessity for a soiree. 
On the contrary, one may live in a small town, a thousand 
miles from a celebrity of any sort, and by attracting the 
brightest, the cleverest, and the best from among those around 
her, still be able to give a soiree, in the truest sense of the 
term. 

Invitations. — Invitations may be issued from a week to 
two weeks in advance. These may be expressed in various 
ways. One form, now in fav or, is the following \ 

Mrs. Loving Braith 

requests the pleasure of your company 

on Friday evening, March tenth. 

DRAMATIC READINGS. 75 PARK SQUARE. 

The word, or words, in the lower left-hand corner will ex- 
press the nature of the entertainment. Sometimes, conver- 
sazione, musicale, recitations, readings from Dickens, or reci- 
tations from Shakespeare, is the term or phrase used. 

If at short notice, or a very informal affair, a friendly note, 
such as any lady will know how to write, is sufficient. When 
programmes are provided, one should be enclosed with the 
invitation. 

Shall We Answer f — Some authorities say, answer all 
invitations; others, that to entertainments of this character, a 
response is not necessary. Our own opinion is, that when one 
is certain that he can not be present, there is no doubt that a 
note of regret should be sent. This will explain his absence 
to the hostess, and assures her that he acknowledges her 
courtesy. An acceptance is not strictly required, but where 
one prefers to send such a note, he may do so, being sure that 
it will meet with the approval of the lady of the house. 



366 



SOIREES, MATINEES AND MUSIC A IS. 



The Guest at the Soiree. — The guest should come early. 
If a lady, she should not keep on her bonnet, and should wear 
a party toilette. She will be guided in the matter of dress, 
somewhat, by the nature of the invitation. If she has ten 
days or two weeks notice, and is led to think that the party 
will be a large or ceremonious affair, she should make a more 
elaborate toilette than for one less formal. 

Gentlemen should also be guided in the same way, and 
should wear a dress-suit, unless in circles where great inform- 
ality prevails. In New York or Europe, a dress-coat would 
be proper at any such evening entertainment. 

Matinees. — A matinee, which originally meant an enter- 
tainment taking place in the morning, is now understood as 
occuring at about any time before evening. We generally 
consider the term as especially applying to afternoon per- 
formances of plays, operas, etc., but in society it has 
another meaning, and signifies an informal lunch, with conver- 
sation, music or readings, from two till four o'clock. It has 
much the nature of a reception, only it is earlier. The hours 
during which it is held, render it very convenient for those 
who have engagements for a drive, a five o'clock tea, or a din- 
ner. Ladies who wish to secure gentlemen for their matinees, 
generally give out their invitations for some national holiday, 
such as Washington's birthday or decoration day, when the 
man of business is released from his toil, and able to be 
present. The tempting bait of a great name in letters, 
science, or art, is sure to draw together people of brilliant 
attainments; and fortunate is the woman who can secure a 
noted artist, author or clergyman, in whose honor to give her 
entertainment. A lady who invited guests to meet Dean 
Stanley, afterward remarked that she particularly enjoyed her 
own matinee, because, through this celebrated foreigner, she 



YOU AND I. 



367 



for the first time induced New York's most distinguished 
clergy to accept her invitations. 

A lady may attract to her matinees other ladies of the fash- 
ionable circle, but she can not always be sure of the men and 
women of serious pursuits or exceptional minds, unless they 
are assured of meeting others with whom they have something 
in common. 

As at soirees, music, either vocal or instrumental, readings 
or recitations may add to the pleasure of the occasion. 

Dancing is sometimes indulged in, and a lady occasionally 
adds to her invitations the words, matinee dansante; but this 
is not in general favor, as the assembly, unless on a holiday, is 
likely to be nearly all ladies, and dancing seems more appro- 
priate for a later hour. 

Refreshments. — Refreshments are served in the same man- 
ner as at receptions, and as they are offered at an hour when 
they may take the place of the regular lunch, it is proper that 
they should be substantial. Game, bouillon, salad, etc., are 
nearly always found on such tables. 

Matinee Dress. — Ladies wear reception or visiting toilettes, 
and bonnets are not usually seen. Gentlemen's dress is the 
same as for day receptions. 

Musicales .—Musical es or musicals, if held in the day-time, 
are the same as matinee musicals, and, if in the evening, 
soiree musicals. Dress and refreshments follow the same 
order, and if the word soiree or matinee does not appear with 
the word musical, it is understood to be the same. 

The lady who intends to make music the principal feature 
of the entertainment, should see that a programme is system- 
atically arranged, so that the performers can understand when 
and where they are to be called upon. If programmes are 



368 



SOIREES, MA TINEES AND MUSICALS. 



printed or engraved, each of the guests should be provided 
with one. If these can be gotten ready before invitations are 
issued, one should be enclosed to each recipient. 

When singers or musicians give their services, the host or 
hostess is expected to send a carriage for them. 

The hostess should see that a lady performer has an escort 
to lead her to the piano, and to turn the leaves of music. 

After the programme is finished, refreshments may be 
brought in and passed to the guests, instead of being served 
en buffet, if preferred. 

Guests at a musical will remember that it is decidedly 
impolite to talk or whisper, or be otherwise than quiet and 
attentive, while a selection is being rendered. 

Lawn Parties. — Nothing can be more delightful than a 
garden-party, if the hostess has tact and the weather is propi- 
tious. The out-door sense of freedom, the games, and the 
various objects in nature which suggest conversation and 
amusement, are all elements of pleasure not to be found under 
a roof. 

"A garden-party may be described as a full dress, out-door, 
five-o'clock tea," says the author of "The London Season 
but, being disposed to take a melancholy view of such festiv- 
ties, he goes on to say that " no Englishman is really at his 
ease at an out-door entertainment, in the daytime, that is 
unconnected with any sport. At a garden-party the least shy 
man has a sense of being placed en evidence in his best clothes, 
in the light of the sun. * . * * The only persons who really 
enjoy these fetes are 'frisky matrons' and engaged couples." 
But he adds : " In spite of the melancholy that prevails at a 
garden-party, it is a pretty sight on a fine afternoon, and a 
foreigner attending one at Holland House, for instance, would 
probably rank it as the pleasantest entertainment that the 



YOU AND I. 



869 



season affords. The bright dresses moving in the picturesque 
garden, the old house in the background, and the old associa- 
tions behind it, produce a brighter and more lasting impres- 
sion on the mind than the hurry and glitter of most of our 
' fashionable arrangements.' " 

Invitations to a Garden- Party. — When the party is given 
at a country house to which the majority of the guests will 
have to go by rail or some public conveyance, a card should 
be enclosed, stating the arrangements made for meeting 
guests by train. Invitations should be engraved or printed 
on plain note-paper in this, or a similar form: 

Mr. and Mrs. Wesley Gordon 

request the pleasure of 

Mr. and Mrs. Edgar BartWs 
company on Wednesday, July tenth, at four o'clock. 

GARDEN-PARTY. CARLETON, MASSACHUSETTS. 

The enclosed card may be worded in this form: 

Carriages will meet the 3.20 train from East Branch Station. 

If still more explicit directions are necessary, they should 
be given. 

These invitations are often sent two weeks in advance. 
When this is the case, the state of the clouds can not be pre- 
dicted, as the weather bureau only supplies us with indications 
two or three days in advance, and arrangements must be 
made for entertaining within doors, should there be rain. 

Preparations, In and Old Doors. — As many out-door 
games as possible should be provided. If there is lawn-tennis, 
the ground should be in order; if archery, the implements 

24 



370 



SOIREES, MA TINEES AND MUSICALS. 



ready; and if croquet, the set should be in place or ready to 
hand. Sometimes, ball playing and races are among the 
amusements, and a floor is often laid for dancing. A band of 
musicians to discourse harmony, grave and gay, is a great 
addition to the festivities. 

For those who are afraid of any possible dampness, rugs 
should be laid upon the grass, and plenty of chairs be placed on 
the piazza. 

Refreshments are often served in a marquee, or large tent, 
the guests going within to partake, or allowing servants to 
serve them outside. 

Some hostesses, especially those at Newport, serve refresh- 
ments in the house, making much the same arrangements as 
for an afternoon tea. Guests, after becoming weary of stroll- 
ing through the grounds, dancing, or indulging in other 
amusements, can then seek the house for rest and refreshment. 
Cold game, sandwiches, -pate de foie gras, lobster salad and, 
sometimes, hot dishes, are served. For beverages, there may 
be tea, coffee, or wine. 

For out-door serving, all dishes should be cold. Game, 
salads, ham, tongue, fate de foie gras, jellies, ices, cakes, 
champagne and punch are the usual things offered. It is best 
to have a cup of hot tea ready at the house for those who may 
feel the need of it. 

Servants should be taught to be especially neat and careful 
at these parties. Plates, knives, forks and spoons should not 
be allowed to lie around on the grass, but should be instantly 
removed in baskets, provided for that purpose. Napkins 
should be plentiful, and fruit,- which is always desirable at 
such entertainments, should be of the best quality. 

In passing lemonade, tea, punch, or strawberries and cream, 
servants should use great care, as a very little of these com- 



YOU AND I. 



371 



pounds, spilled upon a pretty costume, is enough to spoil it and 
the day for the wearer. 

Tables at which guests may sit are not easily provided for 
a large party, but small tables can be placed at convenient 
intervals, where plates and cups can be left. 

Ladies seldom use their choice china or glass at these enter- 
tainments, and frequently rely on the caterer for all the neces- 
sary furnishing. 

Separate tables for gentlemen are sometimes provided with 
Madeira, sherry, soda-water and Apollinaris water. Gentle- 
men help themselves, but servants should be in attendance to 
remove wine-glasses, tumblers and goblets, as they are used, 
and to replenish decanters and pitchers. Glasses of wine are 
carried on trays, by servants, to ladies in different parts of 
the grounds. 

A lady may ask for an invitation for a friend to a garden- 
party, but should not feel that any disrespect is meant to her- 
self, if her request be not granted. Sometimes a hostess has 
reasons for such a denial that she cannot explain. 

Dressing for a Gar den- Party.- — Bonnets or hats are always 
worn at a garden-party. The dress should be of walking 
length, and may be of silk, lawn, crepe, grenadine, wool, or 
any material suitable for a pretty out-door toilette. Light or 
delicate tints are preferable to anything in the least sombre, 
as the ladies' gowns are valuable accessories to the picturesque 
and festal character of such a gathering. 

The hostess wears her hat or bonnet, and receives out on 
the lawn. 

Carriages generally drive up to the door, and ladies go to 
a room provided for them, where they leave wraps and 
arrange toilettes before paying respects to the hostess. 



372 



SOIREES, MA TIN EES AND MUSICALS. 



Balls. — When a ball is given at a private house which has 
no regular ball-room, canvas or linen is usually stretched over 
the carpet, nearly all furniture is removed, and growing plants 
and flowers are tastefully arranged in every favorable situa- 
tion. 

An awning and carpet is stretched from the curb-stone to 
the vestibule. A servant is in attendance to open carriages 
and number them; another servant opens the door of the 
house without waiting for the bell to ring, and directs guests 
to their dressing-rooms. Here they are met by attendants, 
who assist in adjusting their toilettes. 

The Supper-room. — The supper-room is opened about 
twelve o'clock, and an elegant and substantial menu is usually 
provided. The table should be handsomely set with flowers,, 
fruit, candelabra, silver and glass. There should be an abun- 
dance of hot oysters, in various styles, boned turkey, salmon, 
pates, salads and jellies. With this arrangement, there is fre- 
quently a tea-room open all the evening, where bouillon, tea,, 
coffee, sandwiches or macaroons are to be found. A large 
bowl of iced lemonade should always be provided. 

Another method is to have the supper-room open the entire 
evening, where the guests can go at any time, as at a recep- 
tion. When this is done the tea-room is dispensed with. 

When the first arrangement is observed and supper is 
announced, the host leads the way with the oldest or most dis- 
tinguished lady present. If there be a very celebrated man 
in the company, the hostess will go in last, with him; but, as 
a general thing, she will prefer to see that all her guests are 
first served, and will take the opportunity, while supper is in 
progress, of looking about to see that all are provided for, and 
that there are no neglected or unhappy ones. 



YOU AND I. 



373 



The Smoking-room. — A smoking-room is often set apart for 
the gentlemen. When this is done, they should never smoke 
in the dressing-room. 

In the Ball-room. — The ball-room should be well lighted, 
well ventilated, and decorated with flowers. There should be 
plenty of seats around the rooms, next the walls, for the elderly 
people, mammas and chaperons. 

"A great draw-back to balls in America, " says Mrs. Sher- 
wood, "is the lack of conveniences for those who wish to 
remain seated. In Europe, where the elderly are first con- 
sidered, seats are placed around the room, somewhat high, for 
the chaperons, and at their feet sit the debutantes. These red- 
covered sofas, in two tiers, as it were, are brought in by the 
upholsterer (as we hire chairs for the crowded musicales or 
readings, so common in large cities), and are very convenient. 
A row of well-dressed ladies, in velvet, brocade and diamonds, 
some with white hair, certainly forms a distinguished back- 
ground for those who sit at their feet." 

At public balls, there should be a committee of ladies to 
receive. There should also be ushers, managers and stewards. 
The receiving committee should especially see that ladies 
who are strangers in the city are introduced and properly 
entertained. 

The Lady Guest. — A lady should not forget her ball-room 
engagements, neither should she refuse one gentleman and 
accept another for the same dance. She certainly has the 
privilege of declining to dance, but, in that case, she should 
remain seated until the next number. 

A lady is bound to accept the arm of the first gentleman 
who asks to escort her to supper. 

It is not exactly good taste for a young lady to dance every 
time. 



SOIREES, MA TIXEES AXD MUSICALS. 



A young chaperon should not dance while her charge 
remains seated. 

A popular lady will never mention to one less favored, 
the number of times she has danced. 

A lady should remember that the usual hour for departure 
is not later than three o'clock. 

She should not criticise any one's manner of dancing. 

She should not call upon a gentleman, who is not her escort, 
to serve her at supper; but, if she find herself neglected, must 
ask a waiter for what she wishes. 

She should not allow a gentleman to see her to her carriage, 
unless he has first donned hat and overcoat. 

She should not cross a crowded ball-room unattended. If 
she finds herself accidentally alone, she may ask any gentle- 
man at a private ball, whether acquainted or not, to take her 
to her mother or chaperon. 

The Chaperon. — The mother should, if possible, go with 
her daughter to a ball. If this is impossible, the father, or a 
chaperon of suitable age, should accompany the young lady. 
Any place in which the mothers feel in the way, is not a good 
place for the daughters. If the hostess has not room for the 
chaperons or parents, she should give two balls instead of one, 
and have fewer people at each. If the young lady's mother is 
not invited, then the daughter should not accept the invitation. 
Society which does not recognize the middle-aged or elderly, 
is a very poor sort of society. 

The Gentleman Guest. — A gentleman sometimes accom- 
panies a chaperon and two or three other ladies. In going up 
the stairs, he precedes the ladies; also in coming down. The 
latter exception to the general rule is necessary on account of 
trains. He should be ready, in the upper hall, to escort the 
lady when she emerges from her dressing-room. On entering 



YOU AND I. 



375 



the ball-room, the lady precedes the gentleman by a step or 
two, if she does not retain his arm, which is no longer cus- 
tomary. Of course, the first duty is to greet the hostess, who 
stands in a position conveniently near the door. The gentle- 
man always dances first with the lady he escorts, but, after- 
ward, is at liberty to make engagements with other ladies. 
He should see that his companion is not neglected, and should 
introduce partners to her. He should also escort her to sup- 
per if she has made no other engagement, should leave when 
she wishes to go, and should call within two days after the 
entertainment. 

As soon as the dance is finished, the gentleman returns the 
lady to the care of her mother or lady friend. He may linger 
there if he wishes to converse with her, but can not, with 
strict propriety, detain her elsewhere. 

A gentleman may ask ladies to supper, if he happen to be 
talking to them when supper is announced. But if he has 
accompanied a lady to the ball, his first duty is to her, and he 
should be sure that she has an escort before he offers his 
services to others. No gentleman takes a lady to supper 
without also inviting her chaperon. 

In the supper-room, the escort sees that the ladies he attends 
are well served before he supplies himself. 

Gentlemen who find few ladies with whom they are ac- 
quainted, in the ball-room, go to the hostess and ask to be 
presented to ladies who dance. As the hostess, when receiv- 
ing, cannot leave her position, she usually asks two or three 
friends to assist her, and one of these she gladly deputes to 
find partners for them. A hostess is always distressed at an 
array of " wall-flowers "; she cannot endure to think that any 
one is having a stupid time, and very attractive girls, who are 
neither well known nor exceptionally pretty, are often neglect- 
ed by gentlemen, in the mad rush for favor from the society 



376 



SOIREES, MA TINEES AND MUSICALS: 



belle. A truly well-bred man will endeavor to be of use to 
his hostess. He will go to her and ask to be introduced to 
ladies without partners. The more popular and well-known 
he may be, the more will his politeness be appreciated by the 
lad}' of the house, who will realize that he has denied himself 
the pleasure of dancing with his particular favorites, to be of 
service to her. Gentlemen are not always so considerate in 
these matters as they should be. 

At a private ball, a gentleman may attend a lady to a car- 
riage, bring her refreshments, or offer any other little attention 
which he sees she is in need of, without an introduction. 

After the gentleman has entered and paid his respects to 
his hostess and her daughters, he should next find the master 
of the house, and if unknown to him, should ask to be pre- 
sented. 

It is not necessary, on leaving, (as it is at smaller entertain- 
ments) to bid the host and hostess good-by. 

A gentleman who is not accompanied by a lady should 
dance first with the young ladies of the house. 

A gentleman should never attempt to step over a lady's 
train; he should go around it. 

Ball Dress. — A ball requires the most formal and elaborate 
of evening dress. Young ladies of slender figures usually 
wear a light, diaphanous material, though all sorts of beautiful 
fabrics are admissible. The thinner and lighter the dress, 
however, the less fatiguing it will be found. The mothers and 
chaperons wear velvets, satins and brocades. Jewels are in 
order, and flowers are worn and carried. The bouquet and 
fan are usually carried in the right-hand, which rests on the 
arm of the escort ; this leaves the left-hand free to manage the 
train, which is often quite necessary in crowds. Ball dresses 
without trains have lately come into favor, and are certainly 
more convenient for dancing. 



YOU AND I. 



377 



The gentleman wears full dress, and light, delicately tinted, 
kid gloves. Gloves are necessary at any gathering where 
there is to be dancing. 

Ho~lV Many Shall We Invite? — The hostess should be 
careful not to over-crowd her rooms. A crush is an infliction, 
and to most people a positive horror. Where comfort is only 
to be found on the staircase, which becomes a refuge for a 
few, stranded out of the "madding crowd," it is evident 
there are some present who should not have been invited. 
One is usually safe in inviting about one-fourth more people 
than can easily be accomodated, as about that proportion may 
be expected to send regrets. 

A London authority defines a ball as " an assemblage for 
dancing, of not less than seventy-five persons.' ' 

Invitations. — A lady never designates her entertainment in 
the invitation as a " ball," the word, " dancing," usually indicat- 
ing the nature of the gathering. 

The following form is the one most in use: 

Mrs. Samuel Seldon 
requests the pleasure of your company 
on Thursday evening, November fifth, 
at nine o'clock. 

DANCING. 

When the ball is to be given at Delmonico's, it is worded: 
Mr. and Mrs. Seldon 

request the pleasure of your company 

Thursday evening, November fifth, 

at ni?ie o'clock. 

DELMONICO'S. 



378 



SOIREES, MA TINEES AND MUSICALS. 



If the ball is given for a young debutante, her card is some- 
times enclosed. 

In case the invitation is to a stranger, it is polite to enclose the 
card of the host, if to a gentleman, and that of both host and 
hostess, if to a married pair. 

Acceptances and Regrets. — Answers should be sent within 
two days after receiving an invitation, and may be in this 
form: 

Mr. and Mrs. Edward Fairday 
accept, with much pleasure, {or regret exceedingly that, owing to 
serious illness in the family, they are unable to accept) 
Mrs. Samuel Seldon^s 
kind invitation for November fifth. 

25 BRUNSWICK SQUARE. 

Calls After the Ball. — All who have received invitations 
should call on the hostess within ten days or two weeks after 
the ball. If the lady has a regular reception day, a call should 
be made on that day. Sometimes, when a lady has no par- 
ticular day for receiving, she encloses a card with her invita- 
tion, naming some special day or days when she will be at 
home. If it is impossible to make a call, a card should be 
left at the door. 

A Few Suggestions. — If you don't dance, don't go to a 
ball unless in the capacity of chaperon. 

If you are a gentleman, don't exasperate your hostess by 
posing against mantels and door-ways, and saying, " No, 
thanks, I don't dance," when asked by her if she may find you 
a partner. 



YOU AND I. 



379 



When there is plenty of conservatory room, the man who 
does not dance may be of some use, otherwise he is not. Be 
sure to dance with the ladies of the house. At a ball, do not 
dance more than twice with the same lady. 

The German. — No one will think of giving a " German " 
unless well informed as to the numerous formulas and acces- 
sories, which are scarcely within the province of this book to 
explain. But, granted that the figures of the dance, and the 
nature of favors, etc., are understood, the first thing for the 
hostess to think of, is the selection of a leader. 

Some society gentlemen become quite noted in their own 
circles for superior abilities in this line, and it should only be 
to one who is thoroughly competent that the hostess entrusts 
this office, for almost the entire success of the affair depends 
upon the capabilities of the leader. 

Favors should be chosen with taste, and anything like osten- 
tation should be avoided. 

The hostess should see to it that ladies who are not so 
attractive as others, and are not often "favored, 71 are brought 
to the notice of partners and not suffered to remain sitting. 
A hostess of tact can manage this so adroitly as not to allow 
the lady in question to know that she has been neglected. 

Generally, waltzes occupy the first part of the evening, and 
the " German 11 begins after supper. 

The dress is the same as that worn at a ball, and all other 
arrangements, supper, attendance, etc., are the same. 

Invitations to the German. — The same form as that used 
for a ball is proper, with the words, " The German," and the 
hour it is to commence, engraved or written in the lower left- 
hand corner, in place of the word, " Dancing." 

Less formal " Germans " are given by clubs or coteries, who 
meet at different houses to practice the figures. 



380 



SOIREES, MATINEES AXD MUSICALS. 



The invitations for such gatherings should be issued in the 
name of the young lady's mother, in this form: 

Mrs. John Brown 

requests the pleasure of your company at a 
meeting of the " German* 

Friday evening, October eighth, 
at nine o'clock. 

Calls— Those who have received invitations should call 
upon the hostess within ten days, or on the first reception day, 
after the event. 

Parties. — Parties are understood to be less formal than 
balls. They do not call for such elaborate arrangements or 
dressing as the latter, and are not exclusively devoted to 
dancing. 

Conversation, music, etc., may occupy the earlier part of 
the evening. The dancing seldom begins until after supper. 
One o'clock is usually the latest hour for departure. 

Party Invitations. — The invitation at once indicates to its 
recipient the nature of the entertainment; and the hours of 
the party invitation show the distinction between it and the 
ball. For instance: 

Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson Blank 

request the pleasure of your company 

071 Wednesday evening, December ninth, 

at half -past eight o'clock. 

DANCING AT ELEVEN, 




THE INVITATION. 



YOU AND I. 



381 



Sometimes, instead of the latter words in the lower left-hand 
corner, " Cotillion at ten " is written. 

When the party is to be very informal, the style of the note, 
or the word, "Informal," in the lower left-hand corner, should 
distinctly convey this fact to the recipient. 

Few things are more embarrassing than to appear ap- 
parelled for a full dress party, and discover that the gentle- 
men are in frocks or cut-aways and the ladies in visiting dress. 

Opera and Theatre Parties. — The opera or theatre party 
is a pleasant mode of offering hospitalities or conveying a 
compliment to a friend. 

Sometimes, in arranging these parties, a dinner is given at 
six o'clock, after which the company proceed to the opera in 
carriages provided by the host or hostess. The gentleman 
assigned to a lady, to take her to dinner, becomes her escort 
during the evening, and boxes are provided to accomodate 
without crowding the party. 

After the entertainment, the guests return to the house of 
their hostess for refreshments, and separate at twelve ; a gentle- 
man accompanies each lady home; usually, a maid or atten- 
dant calls for her with her carriage, or she may be accom- 
panied to the theatre by her mother or chaperon. 

A less elaborate and more popular form is that in which 
the host or hostess, after the acceptance of his or her invita- 
tions, leaves or sends tickets for the opera to the guests, and 
meets them at the box or boxes indicated for the evening. 
In this case, some male relative of the lady is also invited or 
a chaperon is provided to accompany her. 

After the opera, supper is served, either at the house of the 
entertainer or at some fashionable resort. 

Theatre parties are a favorite means, among well-to-do 
bachelors, of repaying social obligations. 



3S2 



SOIREES, MATINEES AND MUSIC A IS. 



A Gentleman y s Theatre Party. — When a gentleman decides 
to give such a part)', he secures a matron to chaperon the 
affair. She may be a lady of his own family, or any one in 
whom he has confidence as capable of managing such a party. 

He gives his invitations personally, asking the consent of 
the mother for the favor of the daughter's presence for the 
evening, being careful to state the name of the chaperon and 
the names of the gentlemen who are invited. 

The dinner, which is given after the entertainment, may be 
at the house of a friend or in the private parlor of some pop- 
ular restaurant. 

The host informs each gentleman as to whom he shall take 
to dinner. 

The bachelor host pays his respects to his lady guests 
within a week after the party, and thanks them for the pleas- 
ure their presence afforded him. The young ladies should 
also call upon the one who consented to chaperon them. 

From eight to twelve persons are the usual number invited 
to a theatre party. 

Other Forms. — Sometimes the lady prefers to give the din- 
ner before the play and to omit the refreshments afterwards. 

When both dinner and refreshments are given, a lady guest 
may excuse herself from the latter without giving offense. 

When a lady gives such an entertainment, guests call the 
same as after a party. 

A lady invites by informal notes. 

Private Theatricals. — When there are to be fancy-dress, or 
private theatricals, the arrangements as to refreshments and 
receiving are the same as for an ordinary party, but the invita- 
tion should clearly state the nature of the festivities. There 
should be added to the usual form for a party invitation, the 
words : 



YOU AND I. 



383 



Theatricals at eight; Dancing at eleven. Or, In character 
from Shakes-pear e. Or, if no especial book or author is desig- 
nated, Fancy dress, or Masquerade. 

When any special dress is to be worn, invitations should be 
issued three or four weeks in advance, to give time for the 
necessary preparations. 

Of course, the invitation should receive a response, and the 
guest should not appear in ordinary evening dress at any 
fancy or character party. At private theatricals, the usual 
evening dress is worn. 

Children's Parties. — By all means see that the little peo- 
ple have early hours. A party from five to nine o'clock is 
much better than from nine to twelve, and one from three to 
six is better still. 

It is a pleasant custom, and one worthy of observance, the 
celebrating of children's birthdays. These small festivities 
become red-letter days to be long remembered. 

The refreshments should be plentiful but not rich. Salads, 
fates and wines should be banished, and sandwiches, cakes, 
ices and fruits served instead. 

A special feature is the birth-day cake, and a pretty fancy 
is to have it decorated with as many wax candles as are the 
years of the one in whose honor it is made. These small 
tapers may be set in a ring around the edge, or placed in tin 
tubes and sunk into the top of the cake, and are lighted just 
before the little people come in to the table. 

At the close of the supper, the child who is celebrating his 
or her birthday, if old enough to perform the duty, cuts the 
cake, and sends a piece to each small guest. 

Presents are not expected from those attending the party. 

Games or dancing may follow the supper, and some older 
person should constantly superintend the amusements of the 



384 



SOIREES, MATINEES AND MUSICALS. 



little ones, to see that the merriment does not flag, and that 
no small guest is unhappy or neglected. 

Children's parties may be celebrated in households that are 
in mourning, where all other festivities are banished. Child- 
hood should not be clouded by a sorrow which it cannot com- 
prehend. 



LADIES' CALLS AND CARDS. 




HE social call 
is a firmly es- 
tablished cus- 
tom and is like- 
ly to last as 
long as human 
beings feel the 
necessity of ming- 
ling in each other's 

society. To the busy man or woman, the scientific, pro- 
fessional, or literary worker, whose circle is narrowed down 
to a few chosen friends, the ceremonious call is regarded 
as an irksome exaction to be avoided. To the fashionable 
individual, whose life is a round of society's demands and 
returns, its strictly defined code is at once a law and a pro- 
tection, without which chaos would come indeed. To the 
sensible, well-bred person, though he may avoid fashionable 
society on account of its ceremonious demands, the rules 
which govern it are a recognized necessity, and the under- 
standing of them a part of his education. 

The Morning Call. — " Morning calls," as they are termed, 
from the English custom of not dining till evening, and all 
that part of the day which precedes this meal being called 
25 385 



386 



LADIES' CALLS AND CARDS. 



morning, should not be made earlier than 12 m., nor later than 
5 p. m. From ten to twenty minutes is considered the ordin- 
ary length, and the limit should not exceed half an hour. 
When other visitors enter, the call is brought to a close as 
soon as possible. Upon leaving, bow to the strangers. A 
well-bred lady will not keep her hostess standing while she 
lengthens out the leave-taking or enters into conversation 
which should have been finished before she rose to go. 
Neither should the hostess detain the guest with long recitals 
or last words. If some of the attention which is bestowed on 
the art of entering a room was devoted to the equally impor- 
tant one of getting out of it, much weariness and vexation 
would be spared those who make and receive calls. 

Ladies who are visitors at the house do not rise, either on 
the arrival or departure of other ladies, unless there is a great 
difference in age. 

The Evening Call. — This should not be made earlier than 
eight o'clock, nor later than nine. As a general rule it should 
not exceed one hour in duration. Still, there are exceptions 
to all rules, and some there are who have said that even this 
was "more honored in the breach than the observance." 

Duties of the Lady Receiving. — The lady of the house rises 
when her visitors enter the drawing-room, and, after giving 
them her hand and greeting them pleasantly, is careful to seat 
the latest arrivals near her, if possible. She leads or directs 
conversation to them for a time, but is watchful to see that no 
one is neglected. She delicately draws out the shy and 
reserved, encourages the witty, and acts as a gentle stimulus 
to all. Perhaps it is too much to expect that a woman pos- 
sessed of all these qualities will be found every day, but when 
she is, who can estimate her power? Has it been told in 
France or Russia, where the limit was drawn to such influ- 



YOU AND I. 



387 



ences as those of Mme. Swetchine and Juliet Recamier? In 
those salons where the learned, the brilliant, and the famous 
loved to gather, what was the motive force that impelled 
them there ? A woman of noble character, fine intellect, 
and delicate sympathy was the subtle magnetism which drew 
forth from each the best that was in him. The hostess who 
is less anxious to shine herself than that others should shine, is 
sure to succeed. 

Some ladies, when their callers leave, have the English habit 
of rising only, others follow them to the drawing-room door. 
They never resume seats until their visitors have left the 
room. Where a servant is to be summoned to open the door, 
the bell should be rung in good season, and the departing 
guest kept engaged in conversation until the servant is at 
hand. If the gentleman of the house is present, he accom- 
panies the ladies to the outer door. In unpleasant weather 
they should not permit him to see them to the carriage. 

Guests at the house from other cities, or any stranger who 
calls with a friend, should be introduced by the hostess, even 
when the custom of not introducing residents of the same place 
is observed. 

To continue at work during a formal call would be rude, 
but during a prolonged visit, or friendly, informal call, work 
which does not interfere with conversation need not be 
laid aside. 

A lady, not having a regular reception day, will endeavor to 
receive callers at any time. If she be unable, through any 
good cause, to do so, she will instruct her servant to say she 
is engaged. " Not at home," seems now to pass with some 
people for the same thing, and is not even considered a fib, as 
those who would be offended at being told the first, are left 
no chance for being so by the second. A visitor once admit- 
ted must be seen at any cost. 



388 



LADIES' CALLS AND CARDS. 



A lady should not keep a caller waiting without sending to 
ask whether a delay of a few minutes will inconvenience him 
or her. Servants should be instructed to return and announce 
to the visitor when the lady will appear. The hostess should 
always apologize for delay, which should never exceed five 
minutes unless it be positively unavoidable. 

Receiving New Yearns Calls. — New Year's calling is a 
pleasant social observance which should not be suffered to die 
out. On this day busy men of affairs pause to bethink them- 
selves of old acquaintances whose faces they would fain see 
once more, and perhaps make new ones who may in time 
become valued friends. For this and the gentle courtesies, 
the genial good will and hearty fellowship common to this day, 
we say all honor to the kindly, hospitable old Knickerbocker 
custom, and " may its shadow never grow less! " 

Those who intend to entertain elaborately, sometimes send 
out cards of invitation to gentlemen friends. These cards are 
engraved with the name of the hostess, and if she have daugh- 
ters who are to receive, their names are placed below hers. 
If other ladies are to recieve with her, she encloses their cards, 
in the envelope with her own. 

When the lady guest wishes to invite her own personal 
friends to the house of the hostess for this day, she writes upon 
her card the number of the residence where she will receive,, 
and the hours for receiving, enclosing with it the visiting card 
of her hostess. 

The lady of the house will use as an invitation, a card bear- 
ing her name, place of residence, hours for receiving, and the 
words " at home." 

Upon such an occasion the ladies are expected to be in full 
dress — which does not mean bare shoulders and arms, — a 
square cut, or heart-shaped opening for the neck of the cor- 



YOU AND I. 



389 



sage, and sleeves to the elbow, being now considered the most 
fitting for a day reception. There is scarcely any limit to the 
elegance of toilettes worn by married ladies at such times. 
Still, any of the delicate-tinted, crape-like wool goods, which 
are now manufactured, can be made into beautiful and effective 
dresses, and for young ladies are always appropriate. The 
lady who is assisted by her daughters in receiving, should wear 
a dark silk, satin or velvet, with rich lace, or dainty ruchings. 
Long gloves of a light tan or pearl color are en regie. Ladies 
should be dressed and ready to receive as early as 12 m., as 
gentlemen, who have a great many calls to make, generally 
begin about this time. The house is lighted as if for an even- 
ing, and a table is spread in the back parlor or dining-room as 
it would be for an ordinary reception or party. It is a difficult 
matter to serve hot viands, owing to the irregularity of time 
and the intervals between guests. For this reason the refresh- 
ments which are best adapted to this style of reception are 
boned turkey, pickled oysters, sandwiches, jellied tongues, 
pates, etc., with the addition of cake and fruit displayed attrac- 
tively. Do not offer wine. Dear readers of the gentler sex, 
as you would help with your fair hands to raise the standard 
of a noble manhood, as you would not place one stone in the 
path of decency and morality, as you would ever lift up your 
voices for the pure and elevated, as you would not lead toward 
degradation one immortal soul, we pray you do not hold to the 
lips of those who can so illy refuse you, the intoxicating cup. 
If you are in the habit of offering wine at other times, do not 
on this day of days. Consider the case of a man who may 
call at fifty houses, if even one-fifth of that number offer wine. 
If he be unable to resist temptation, or is so kindly hearted as 
to be persuaded against his better judgment, can you think 
smilingly and comfortably of your own brother, father, hus- 
band, or lover, after he has passed through this round of 



390 



LADIES' CALLS AND CARDS. 



debauchery? If you can not, do not be one to help make 
some other woman wretched. Even suppose a gentleman 
should drink with two or three of his lady friends and stop 
there, he lays himself liable to the pique of others whom he is 
obliged to refuse. If he have self-control sufficient to abstain 
entirely, think of the disagreeable position in which you place 
him, for no gentleman likes to refuse a lady, and above all, his 




WINE FROM WOMAN'S HAND. 

hostess, what seems such a small request. Therefore, by all 
that is pure, sacred and holy, do not on this first, glad day of 
the year mingle with the cup of one human being humiliation 
and regret, or sow other than what you would wish to reap. 

An admirable arrangement is the spirit-lamp under the 
kettle, which keeps the bouillon, coffee and tea always hot. 
These should be placed with the tea-cups and accessories on a 
small side table, and served by a maid-servant neatly dressed. 
A man-servant will also be necessary to wait upon the table, 



YOU AND I. 



391 



and another to attend the door, which should be opened with- 
out waiting for the caller to ring. The man-servant in the 
hall should have a silver salver or card-basket in which to 
receive all cards ; and these should be deposited in some recep- 
tacle where the ladies may examine them when the leisure 
time arrives for doing so. 

Ladies rise to receive callers. The hostess offers her hand, 
and after an interchange of kindly wishes, the visitor is intro- 
duced to her lady friends. The young ladies, and those to 
whom he is a stranger, are not expected to extend their hands. 
If the caller is a friend or acquaintance of one of the lady 
guests, the hostess will express the same cordiality that she 
would to one who belongs to her own inner circle. 

A gentleman should not be asked to remove his overcoat, 
nor to be relieved of his hat. During the brief visit, which 
rarely exceeds five minutes, he would generally prefer retaining, 
them. If he wishes to dispose of either, he may do so in the 
hall, but as he is best acquainted with the dimensions of his 
list, and the time at his disposal, he is at liberty to act his own 
pleasure on this point. Neither should he be asked to stay, 
but when about to take his departure refreshments may be 
offered, but this hospitality should never be pressed, as the 
gentleman may have lunched only ten minutes before, and the 
human stomach has its limitations even on New Year's day. 
A servant will serve the guest, but one of the ladies may, if 
she wishes to show especial attention, accompany him to the 
refreshment room, but should return immediately on the 
arrival of new guests. 

The lady who desires to be less formal may simply write 
"January i " upon her visiting card, and send it to friends 
whom she would like to call upon her. 

Having intimated a wish for visitors, it is expected that 
some refreshment will be provided. This need not be at all 



892 



LADIES' CALLS AND CARDS. 



elaborate; a simple visiting costume may be worn with light 
gloves, and it is not necessary to light the house artificially. 

In some cities, the names of ladies who intend to receive are 
published in the papers on New Year's morning. This obvi- 
ates the necessity of sending cards, unless, of course, the ladies 
prefer the latter method of announcement. 

The lady who does not send invitations, but graciously 
receives all her friends and acquaintances, who wish to pay 
their respects to her, may or may not provide a table of re- 
freshments as she chooses. Some houses are not so arranged 
as to make this convenient, or it may be impossible to obtain 
the requisite help for the setting and serving of a table. 
Where this form of hospitality is to be carried out under 
difficulties, it is better not done at all, and as the capacities 
in man for eating are limited, and he cannot partake at 
every house, it is quite as well to follow the plan, which many 
ladies have adopted, of receiving their friends without offer- 
ing refreshments. Some present each caller with a button- 
hole bouquet instead. But whether the lady is to receive 
formally or informally, she should be ready to see visitors at 
12 m., unless she intends to close her house; in which case a 
basket is usually hung from the door or bell handle, as a 
receptacle for cards. 

Calls of Acknowledgment. — Calls should be made within 
three days after a dinner or party, if it is a first invitation; 
and if not, within a week. When a lady has been invited to 
a tea or other entertainment through the instrumentality of a 
friend, and has not previously met her hostess, she should call 
very soon afterwards. If her response is not followed by a 
return call or another invitation she will infer that the ac- 
quaintance is at an end. If, however, within a short time she 
invites her entertainer to her own house, and the lady accepts, 



YOU AND I. 



293 



she will understand that a continuance of the acquaintance is 
desired. 

After having visited a friend at her country seat, or after 
having received an invitation to visit her, it is proper that you 
should call upon her as soon as she returns to the city. If 
you do not observe that civility, your neglect will be construed 
into a desire to drop her acquaintance, and nothing but ex- 
ceedingly strong reasons should lead you to take the latter 
course, after having been the recipient of the lady's courtesy 
or hospitality. 

A Visiting List. — A lady should keep a visiting book in 
which receptions, calls made and to be made, are kept in strict 
account, with blank spaces in which to note future engage- 
ments. 

At a Summer Resort. — Those who own their cottages 
call first upon those who rent, and those who rent call upon 
each other according to priority of arrival. Exceptions to 
these cases are where there has been a previous acquaintance 
and exchange of calls, or where there is any great difference 
in age, when the elder lady makes the first call, or takes the 
initiative by inviting the younger to call, or to some entertain- 
ment. When the occupants of two cottages, who have 
arrived at about the same time, meet at the house of a friend, 
and the elder of the two invites the other to call, it would be 
rudeness not to respond to the invitation. The sooner the 
visit is made, the more graceful will the attention be con- 
sidered. If one lady asks permission of another to bring a 
friend to call, and it is given, it is decidedly rude to neglect 
to do so. 

Residents of cottages always call first upon those at hotels. 

Reception Days. — Some ladies set apart certain days or 
evenings once a week, fortnight or month, as the case may 



894 



LADIES' CALLS AND CARDS. 



be, on which to receive. When a lady has made this rule, 
and it is generally understood, her friends should be consider- 
ate enough to observe it by making it their convenience to 
call at this time, instead of upon other days. The reason of 
her having made such an arrangement is to prevent the loss 
of time from other duties, which being " at home " at all times 
is apt to entail. Acquaintances merely wishing to leave their 
cards, but not call, may do so upon other days, but not upon 
the regular reception day, as it would be a slight to present 
yourself otherwise than in person at a time when a lady has 
opened her house for the express purpose of entertaining her 
acquaintances. 

The custom of giving up one afternoon or evening each 
week to the receiving of one's friends is one very much to be 
recommended. When the day becomes generally known, 
callers are spared the disappointment of not finding the hostess 
at home, people who are congenial to each other are apt to 
meet, who might not otherwise. It was in this way the 
brilliant men and women of France became known to each 
other in the last century; and, says Mrs. Sherwood: "No one 
can forget the eloquent thanks of such men as Horace Wal- 
pole, and other persons of distinction, to the Misses Berry, in 
London, who kept up their evening receptions for sixty years. 

After the Betrothal. — When a betrothal has been formally 
announced to relatives and friends on both sides, calls of con- 
gratulation follow. The prospective bridegroom is intro- 
duced by the lady's parents to their friends, and his family 
in turn present their relatives and acquaintances to the bride 
to be. Announcements are generally made by the parents, 
who leave the cards of the betrothed, with their own, with 
such persons as they wish should continue the friends of the 
pair who are to be wedded. 



YOU AND I. 



395 



Congratulations . — When any happy or auspicious event has 
occurred in a family, such as a birth, a marriage, the accept- 
ance of some high office or position, or when one of its mem- 
bers has distinguished himself or herself by a fine oration, a 
notable work of art or literary production, it is graceful and 
kindly to show your appreciation and good will by a call of 
congratulation. We may feel that our friends are glad of our 
happiness or success, but there is yet to be found the human 
being who is not made the least bit happier by hearing them 
say so. 

Says Chesterfield: "Compliments of congratulation are 
always kindly taken, and cost one nothing but pen, ink and 
paper. I consider them as draughts upon good breeding, 
where the exchange is always greatly in favor of the drawer."" 

Condolence. — Visits of condolence should be made by friends 
within ten days after the event which occasions them, and by 
formal acquaintances immediately after the family appear at 
public worship. 

If admitted, callers should not allude to the sad event, unless 
it is rlrst mentioned by the bereaved. Many sensitive and 
nervous' people suffer renewed torture by the re-opening of 
such wounds by well-intentioned but unthinking visitors. For 
the same reason the custom of sending the old-fashioned, har- 
rowing letters of condolence has fallen into disuse. 

First Calls. — It sometimes becomes a question between old 
residents as to who shall call first. When this is the case the 
older one should take the initiative. 

We once happened to be present where there were two 
ladies who had frequently met, but had never exchanged calls. 
The elder of the two, who was married, said to the other, who 
was unmarried: " I wish you would come and see me." 

" O, I think you ought to first come and see me," was the 
answer. 



396 



LADIES' CALLS AND CARDS. 



" If Mrs. B has asked you to call, she means it," said an old 
lady who was present, and whose reputation for kindness and 
motherliness fully excused the interference. 

The young lady, feeling the gentle rebuke, flushed slightly, 
but quickly answered: " I have no doubt of it, and I shall have 
great pleasure in calling." 

After Mrs. B had departed, the old lady said : " You see, 
my dear, when an older person expresses a desire to have you 
visit her, her invitation should meet with something of the 
same response as if she had first come to see you, and it is 
better not to haggle over the point of priority.'" 

The young lady made the first call. 

When a first invitation is answered by a mere formal note 
of regret, the invitation is not repeated. A person of good 
breeding will always accept a first invitation if possible. 
When circumstances will not allow of the acceptance, an 
informal note should so fully explain the reasons that no doubt 
can remain as to the appreciation of the courtesy. 

Residents always make the first call upon the stranger in 
town, whether she is visiting or has come to live in the place. 

Sometimes a lady who has removed to a new city, and 
wishes to become acquainted, adopts the expedient of sending 
out cards for several days in the month. These are sometimes 
accompanied by the card of some well-known friend. If these 
cards are acknowledged by the calls of the desired guests, the 
stranger may feel that she has made a very pleasant and 
desirable beginning. Failure to respond either by call or note 
of regret to such an invitation, is a rudeness of which no well- 
bred person will be guilty. If a lady does not wish to keep 
up an acquaintance thus begun, she can discontinue her calls, 
but a civility such as an invitation should never be allowed to 
pass without some acknowledgement. 

First calls should be returned within a week. 



YOU AND I. 



897 



No first visit should be returned simply by a card, unless it 
is followed by an invitation. 

As a rule, calls made in person are not returned by card, 
and vice versa. 

Ladies who know each other by sight, and have exchanged 
calls without meeting, should bow when the occasion presents 
itself. They will, of course, seek the first possible opportunity 
of being introduced. 

Never. — Never take young children or dogs with you into 
anyone's drawing-room. Even if you get away from the 
house without their having done any harm, you have doubtless 
kept your hostess in a state of nervous alarm, which annuls all 
pleasure she may have had in your visit. 

Never make a long call if you find the lady you have called 
to see dressed ready to go out. 

Never bring your umbrella or water-proof into the drawing- 
room if making a social call. 

Never call at the luncheon or dinner hour. 

Never make an untidy or careless toilette in which to visit 
a friend. 

Never allow three or four out of your family to accompany 
you when making calls. Two, or at most three, of one family 
are all that should call together. 

Never, if you are a lady, call upon a gentleman except on 
business. 

Never, while waiting for the hostess, touch an open piano,, 
walk about the room, nor handle bric-a-brac. 

Never offer to go to the room of an invalid, but wait to be 
invited to do so. 

Never remove your bonnet during a call unless asked to 
do so. A lady, however, may always take off a wrap upon 
entering a heated room, as health demands this necessary pre- 



398 



LADIES 1 CALLS AND CARDS. 



caution against colds. A polite hostess will usually invite a 
visitor to lay aside a wrap, especially if the weather be very 
cold, necessitating heavy outer coverings. 

Never call upon guests at a house where the host and hostess 
are unknown to you, without leaving cards for them also, 
^fou cannot exercise the same freedom at a private house that 
you would at a hotel. 

Never, if you cannot recall the name of a person, stumble 
through an interview on uncertain ground. Frankly state the 
truth in the matter and save embarrassment on both sides. 

Cards. — A bit of pasteboard on which is engraven a name 
may seem a very insignificant, unimportant thing to the indi- 
vidual who has never used one. To the man or woman of 
polite society and the world, it is either an open sesame or 
bolted door to much that is worth living for. If the small 
square of bristol board stands for so much with some people, 
it is quite necessary that its general appearance and make-up 
should be a matter for careful consideration, since these quali- 
ties will convey to the fastidious, at a glance, something of the 
social status of the owner. The style of the card is apt to 
change slightly each year, but good taste has established cer- 
tain rules by which one need never be very much out of the 
fashion. These are, that the-card should neither be noticeably 
large or small, that it should be white, of fine, unglazed texture, 
guiltless of all manner of decoration, emblem or crest, and bear 
nothing but the name or, possibly, the residence or day of 
reception, in clear, unflourished script. " Mrs." or " Miss " 
should be written in every case. 

Titles. — When a lady has herself earned a title, she may use 
it upon her cards, but she should never borrow her husband's. 
Good society will be sure to smile at a card bearing the 
inscription: "Mrs. Lieut. Brown, U. S. A.," or "Mrs. Dr. J. 



YOU AND I. 



399 



B. Smith." A married lady's card should always bear her 
husband's name, as, "Mrs. Charles Grandcourt." Whether, 
after his death, she should continue to call herself by his name, 
or simply write "Mrs. Sarah Grandcourt," is now a mooted 
point, the majority being rather in favor of the latter form. 
Still, there seems no very good reason why those who prefer 
the former should not adhere to it, unless there should be a 
married son having the same name as his father, when two 
Mrs. Charles Grandcourts might lead to the elder being called 
" old Mrs. Grandcourt," in which case the widow would gen- 
erally prefer to use her own name. 

During a young lady's first season, her name is engraved 
under that of her mother. She may afterwards continue this 
form, or have her own separate card, as she prefers. 

P. P. C. Cards. — These letters stand for " Pour Prendre 
Conge" — to take leave, — and should appear at the lower 
right hand corner, the best usage being in favor of capitals. 

When a lady leaves town for a voyage or extended absence, 
it is customary for her to send by mail P. P. C. cards to those 
persons whose acquaintance she wishes to keep up. When 
she returns to town, her friends may call upon her as soon as 
they know of the event, or she may signify her presence by 
again sending cards with or without an " at home " day 
upon them. 

A young lady about to be married, leaves her card in per- 
son about three weeks before the event, but she does not make 
visits. Her mother's or chaperon's card should accompany 
her own. Their names are not engraved together, as the 
young lady, about to assume a new dignity, very properly 
feels that she may use her own individual card to signify to 
her friends that they are to be welcome to the home of which 
she is soon to become the presiding genius. 



400 



LADIES' CALLS AND CARDS. 



Folding or Turning Down Corners. — Turning down the 
left hand upper corner signifies congratulations; the left hand 
lower corner, condolence; the right hand lower corner, " to 
take leave; 71 the right hand end, delivered in person, if folded 
through the middle, and left for lady of the house, the whole 
family is included. This latter form does not embrace guests 
visiting at the house; a card should be left for each one. 

At Receptions. — Cards should always be left in the hall 
when entering a reception, as this is a great convenience to 
the entertainer when arranging her visiting list. Cards or 
calls after a reception are not necessary, unless the person 
invited was unable to be present. 

On a reception day, it is not allowable to leave a card with- 
out entering. Of course, on a day when special invitations 
have been sent, one would scarcely commit the enormity of 
leaving a card, unless unaware that a reception was being 
held. 

Congratulation or Condolence. — Cards of congratulation 
or condolence must never be sent by mail, but must be left by 
special messenger or in person. Flowers may accompany 
either one. Upon cards of condolence some appropriate senti- 
ment may be written, but when the sender is only an acquaint- 
ance this is usually omitted. Cards of condolence demand no 
answer. They are expressions of a sympathy so delicate that 
no response is expected. 

Cards by Mail. — Cards of introduction, of invitation and 
reply, and P. P. C. cards may be sent by mail; all others 
should be delivered in person or by messenger. 

The Husbands or Relative's Card. — A lady may always 
leave her husband's card with her own; it is no longer fash- 
ionable to engrave both names upon the same card. 



YOU AND I. 



401 



When a son enters society, his mother will leave his card 
with her husband's and her own. This signifies that it is 
expected that he will be included in invitations to members of 
the family, a form of etiquette which simplifies matters, and is 
a positive necessity in a society where gentlemen have so little 
leisure as they do in this country. 

x\ near lady relative may attend to this formality, if by any 
reason it can not be done by the mother. 

Change of Residence. — When a lady removes her residence, 
she should leave a card, with her new address, with those 
who are expected to make the next visit to her. She may 
send it by mail to those upon whom she called last. 

Once a Tear. — A card left once a year is understood to 
continue the acquaintance. 




26 



THE CALLING CUSTOMS OF 
GENTLEMEN. 




HAT fact," says Emer- 
son, " more conspicuous in 
modern history, than the cre- 
|p ation of the gentleman? Chivalry is that, 
and loyalty is that, and, in English litera- 
ture, half the drama, and all the novels, from Sir 
Philip Sidney to Sir Walter Scott, paint this figure." 
While the term u gentleman " implies much more 
(f than a fine veneer of good breeding and perfect etiquette^ 
still we can scarcely conceive of a gentleman who is en- 
tirely wanting in the outward indications of breeding and 
refinement, for — to again quote the Concord philosopher — 
"Defect in manners is usually the defect of fine perceptions." 

Certain codes and observances are the outgrowth of much 
experience of society, and while one's perceptions may be fine 
enough to lead him, in the main, to do the right thing, still 
there are certain small points which he comes upon, that other 
people have run against before and settled. If he have not 
the lightning-like perception necessary to grasp the situation 

402 



THE CALLING CUSTOMS OF GENTLEMEN. 



403 



at a glance, he may be glad to know how others have settled 
it before him; for that which the majority have agreed upon 
in these matters may generally be safely accepted as the right 
decision. It is better to even be over punctilious as to rules, 
than to have no rule at all; for as the poet Young says: 

" Stiff forms are bad, but let not worse intrude, 
Nor conquer art and nature to be rude." 

In " As You Like It," the gentle duke is shocked at " a 
rude despiser of good manners." 

The First Call, — A gentleman, after having been pre- 
sented to a lady, can seldom tell whether she will care to 
continue the acquaintance. Being modest enough to have 
this doubt, he does not wish to ask permission to call, and 
must therefore wait to be invited; or, he may do that which 
is considered in polite circles quite as good form, that is, he 
may simply leave his card at her residence, and if the acquaint- 
ance is desired, the mother or chaperon will send an invitation 
for him to visit the family, or, perhaps, to attend an entertain- 
ment to be given at the house. After the latter courtesy 
he will, of course, call to pay his respects, and, upon being 
invited to visit, will not be slow to respond. 

If his card receives no answer, he may conclude that the 
lady's circle is already sufficiently large, and will wait, as 
would any stranger, to be recognized when they again meet. 

If a lady has stated a time at which a gentleman may call, 
he should be careful to be prompt, and to allow nothing, if pos- 
sible, to prevent him from keeping the engagement. Should 
he be unable to appear, he should immediately despatch a 
messenger with a note explaining his absence. Gentlemen 
must remember that a lady's amour ftroftre is quite as quickly 
wounded as their own, and that carelessness has sometimes 
killed a friendship. 



404 



YOU AXD I. 



When an invitation to call, without specifying any time, is 
given by a lady, a gentleman generally considers it quite the 
same as no invitation at all, as the lady may be out or en- 
gaged, when he makes his appearance. 

The Visiting or Calling Card. — This is a more important 
matter than it may at first seem. A man's acquaintance with 
polite society is sometimes gauged by this bit of pasteboard. In 
the first place, it should be unglazed and of the finest quality. 
The size can be determined by enquiry of a fashionable sta- 
tioner. If written by the owner, the prefix " Mr."" is not used, 
but the most correct style is now considered to be the neatly 
engraved script with " Mr." before the name. The address 
should be placed in the lower right hand corner, in this wise: 



Mr. John DarreL 



545 Sanborn Ave. 

When to Call. — If a gentleman can command leisure, he 
calls upon a lady at the strictly conventional hours, — between 
two and five o'clock p. m. If he be a business man, he makes 
his visit between eight and nine o'clock in the evening. A 
gentleman who calls a half hour or more before eight, for fear 
the lady may be out, is very apt to displease a well-bred 
hostess by his over eagerness or ignorance of society usages. 

Whom to Ask For. — When a gentleman makes a formal 
call, he should ask to see all the ladies of the family; and 
should send in a card for each one, though it is quite permis- 
sible to send in but one. 



THE CALLING CUSTOMS OF GENTLEMEN. 



405 



If he be calling upon a young lady who is a guest of people 
whom he has never met, he should send in with his card for 
the former, a card for the hostess, at the same time asking' to 
see her. The latter may decline to interrupt his visit with 
his friend, but it is considered graceful and hospitable for the 
hostess to enter before the close of the visit, to assure the gen- 
tleman that any friend of her guest, is entirely welcome in 
her house. 

A gentleman should always ask to see the mother or 
chaperon of the young lady whom he visits. In America, a 
young lady who has been out in society one season may 
receive a gentleman without the assistance of an older person, 
still, the caller should never fail to ask for the mother or 
chaperon, even if she continue to excuse herself. Should the 
elder lady appear and remain throughout the visit, the true 
gentleman, however annoyed he may be at the presence of 
the third person, will not allow the slightest appearance of dis- 
pleasure to be apparent. He will address the greater part of 
his conversation to the mother, and never fail to ask for her 
when he calls. 

Many cultured and elegant women are, by reason of their 
larger experience, more charming and attractive in conversa- 
tion than their daughters, and young gentlemen often seek 
such homes quite as much for the mother's as the daughter's sake. 

If the elder lady always enters and remains during the entire 
visit, no matter how often the gentleman may call, the latter 
is quite right in concluding that there is some strong reason 
for her constant attendance on her daughter or charge; and 
the sooner he divines her motive the better for all. 

In Europe, such a line of conduct on the part of a mother or 
chaperon would only be a necessary observance of etiquette, 
and a gentleman who has sisters or daughters will not con- 
sider such rules severe. Says a recent writer: " The man 



406 



YOU AND 1. 



who quarrels with them, or with their enforcement, is just the 
person for whom they were established by those who, by 
reason of superior social position, experience and refined cul- 
ture, have combined to ordain them." 

After an Entertainment. — A gentleman should call within 
a week after having been invited to an entertainment, whether 
he accepted the invitation or not. If he can not call, he must 
at least leave a card for both host and hostess. This latter 
courtesy is imperative and should never be neglected. If the 
recipient of hospitalities is careless on this point, he need not 
be surprised if he is left out in future. 

If a gentleman be married, his wife may leave his card for 
him with her own. If he leaves his card in person, the corner 
should be turned down to signify the fact. 

Answering Invitations. — A gentleman should promptly 
answer all invitations, either accepting or declining them.. 
Invitations to receptions, kettle-drums and similar entertain- 
ments may be answered by mail; those to balls, parties, din- 
ners, and all formal entertainments, by special messenger. 

Calling •with Ladies. — A gentleman, attending ladies mak- 
ing ceremonious calls, should ring the bell, follow the ladies in, 
and be the last to greet the hostess, unless he is obliged to 
introduce. He should never be seated while they are standings 
and should follow the ladies out, being the last to take leave 

Calling with Strangers. — A gentleman, unless he be a very 
old and valued friend, should never take a strange gentleman 
to call upon a lady, without first getting her permission to do so. 

Acknowledging a Courtesy. — A gentleman, when invited 
by a lady to visit her, will acknowledge the compliment with 
thanks; and, if he really desires the acquaintance, will not 
neglect to pay his respects within a week. If he can not call,, 
he must leave a card. 



THE CALLING CUSTOMS OF GENTLEMEN. 497 

Calling at a Hotel. — A gentleman, visiting a friend at a 
hotel, will send up his card and remain in the parlor, never 
offering to go to his friend's room until invited. Of course, a 
lady will always receive a gentleman in the parlor or reception 
room, unless she should have a parlor for her own use, where, 
if she be a young lady, she may entertain her guest in this 
apartment in the presence of her mother or some older person. 

The Formal Call. — In making formal calls, a gentleman 
may wear the usual morning dress — a black frock coat, dark 
trousers, a dark silk tie, and a neutral tint or unobtrusive 
shade of gloves. In warm weather, lighter colors are per- 
missible. He retains his hat in his hand, but never lays it 
upon a chair or any of the furniture. He may place it upon 
the floor, under or beside his chair. His cane he may also 
retain, or leave it in the hall, as he prefers. Soiled overshoes 
should not be worn into the drawing-room. At summer 
resorts, less ceremony is observed in the matter of dress, and 
whatever clothes are suitable to the place are worn in making 
visits. On the entrance of ladies, he rises and remains standing 
until they are seated. He does not wait for an invitation to 
be seated, but takes a convenient chair within easy talking 
range of the lady on whom he has called. He will certainly 
try to control all fidgeting, such as twisting his cane, tilting a 
chair, twitching his watch chain or drumming'on the furniture ; 
and try to be cool, self-possessed and agreeable, talking in an 
unconstrained, but not familiar manner, and not monopolizing 
the conversation. The man who never listens is about as 
unwelcome as the man who never talks. Somewhere between 
the two, is a golden mean, and the one who possesses it is 
master of the situation. 

In case other ladies enter the room during his call, he rises 
and remains standing until they are seated. He need not 



408 



YOU AND I. 



offer a seat unless the hostess requests him to do so, and then 
it should not be his own, if others are at hand. If ladies to 
whom he is talking rise to take leave, he rises and accom- 
panies them to their carriage. Unless his stay has been very 
very short, he may take leave of the hostess and depart 
at this time with less awkwardness than if he returns to 
the house; but this is entirely a matter of his own prefer- 
ence. He may converse with any who are in the drawing- 
room without an introduction. Should several others arrive, 
he will take advantage of the first lull in the conversation, 
to take leave of the hostess, one bow sufficing for the others. 
The formal call should not very much exceed fifteen minutes, 
and a gentleman, without consulting his watch, will rise 
promptly, and get out of the room as soon thereafter as is 
consistent with grace and ease of manner. 

Calls of Congratulation. — When a friend has distinguished 
himself or herself by a fine oration, the authorship of a book, 
a work of art, or has been chosen to fill a position of high 
honor, a visit of congratulation is always in order, and can 
only be kindly understood by the recipient. To some people, 
the consciousness of a public honor only becomes of value, 
when near or dear friends express their appreciation and 
delight. You do not know how much your friend may care 
for your sympathy, and wait for some outward manifestation 
of it. If, then, you can make his heart one whit the 
happier by your delicately expressed appreciation, do not lose 
time before hastening to do so. A lost opportunity to do 
good sometimes becomes a mill-stone on one's conscience. 
Says Shakespeare: 

" The means that heaven yields must be embraced, 
And not neglected; else if heaven would, 
And we would not, heaven's offer we refuse." 



THE CALLING CUSTOMS OF GENTLEMEN. 409 

The Yearly Call. — A gentleman should not neglect to make 
a yearly call, when friends have returned from summer vaca- 
tions, and before the " season " begins. If he does not do so, he 
need not be surprised if he is not included in the invitations to 
entertainments given by them. He should leave a card at 
€ach house where he calls, as this will assist the lady's memory 
when making up her list, which is quite a considerable task if 
one has a large circle of acquaintances. The exact address 
should be placed upon the card, as this is a great saving of 
time and trouble to the lady, when issuing invitations. If 
cards are left once, they need not be left again during the 
year, except after an entertainment, or for a guest. 

A fter a Marriage. — If a gentleman has received an invita- 
tion to a wedding reception, he should afterward call on the 
parents who sent the invitation. If, not being able to attend, 
he send a card by some member of the family, he need 
make no call until he receives cards naming the address of 
the newly wedded pair. If he has received an invitation to 
be present at the marriage ceremony, he should call as soon 
as possible upon the parents and the young married people. 

A Bridegroom } s Card. — When there has been no wedding 
reception, or the invitations have included only the family and 
most intimate friends, the bridegroom sometimes sends his 
bachelor card, enclosed in an envelope, to those of his acquain- 
tances whom he wishes to visit him in his new home. Recip- 
ients of such cards should not fail to call upon the bride within 
ten days after her permanent address becomes known. 

Letters of Introduction. — If a gentleman be the bearer of 
a letter of introduction, he calls upon the lady or gentleman 
addressed, and sends in his own card with the one that intro- 
duces him. If the person who has given him the letter be 
held in esteem, he will be sure of a cordial welcome. If he be 



410 



YOU AXD I. 



a person of tact he will not be long in determining whether 
the kindness he receives is all for his friend's sake, or whether 
he may feel himself entitled to a share on his own account. 
If he rind the acquaintance less pleasant than he anticipated, 
there are always ways of avoiding it. or breaking it off. 
The gentleman who has been kindly received leaves his card 
on taking his departure from the place. If he should again 
return to the city, he may send his card, but must not feel 
indignant if it receive no recognition. Should it be noticed, 
he may be convinced that this time it is for his own sake, and 
that the acquaintance is desired. 

Receiving the Bearer of an Introduction. — When a gentle- 
man receives a card or letter of introduction from another 
gentleman, through the mail or by messenger, he must not fail 
to acknowledge, in person, its receipt within three days. If it 
be impossible for him to do this, he must send an explanation 
by special messenger, and a proffer of such courtesies as he 
may be able to extend. After the interchange of these civil- 
ities, if the receiver of the introductory card be satisfied that 
he owes nothing more to the person who' has sent the stranger, 
the acquaintance may cease without any unpleasant feeling on 
either side. If, however, the acquaintance prove mutually 
agreeable, an interchange of civilities may continue, as long as. 
the stranger remains in the place, but the receiving gentleman 
must offer the first hospitalities before he can accept any from 
the stranger whom his friend has sent to him. 

Notes and Visits of Condolence. — After a friend has suf- 
fered a bereavement, a call should be made within ten days, 
if on intimate terms with the family; if not on such a footing, 
a call within one month, or as soon as the family have appeared 
at public worship, is considered proper. Mere acquaint- 
ances only call and leave a card, with inquiries after the 



THE CALLING CUSTOMS OF GENTLEMEN. 



411 



health of those in affliction. Friends may or may not be 
admitted, according to the physical or mental condition of 
the bereaved. If received, a visitor should not allude to the 
sad event, unless the other introduce the subject, or seem to 
wish to make it a topic of conversation. When this is the 
case, a tender and delicate sympathy should be expressed, and 
whatever maxim of philosophy, Christian resignation, or fine 
fortitude, that the tact of the consoler may suggest. Some- 
times such words fall fruitlessly upon a bruised heart, but 
again they have become " as the gentle rain from heaven upon 
the place beneath. " Says a recent author: "Often a phrase, 
on which the writer has built no hope, may be the airy bridge 
over which the sorrowing soul returns, slowly and blindly, to 
peace and resignation. Who would miss the chance, be it 
one in ten thousand, of building such a bridge?" But if you 
can do nothing more than harrow up the wounded soul with a 
stronger and deeper realization of its loss; if you can only 
echo the hackneyed phrases of consolation, with which the 
old time letters of condolence ran over, and of which we have 
spoken in a previous chapter, we beseech of you, leave noth- 
ing more than your card. Sometimes a flower, or a book, or 
a simple message, such as " I send you a pressure of my hand," 
" My love and sympathy, dear friend," or some other sentence 
of that sort, is an expression of condolence which may come 
gratefully to the sufferer. 

Call in Person.- — A call, made in person, must be returned 
in person, and not by card. 

At the Club. — In acknowledging, by card, courtesies re- 
ceived from a club, one card will suffice. 

A Graceful Civility. — It is a graceful civility for a gentle- 
man, when calling, to leave cards for professional people, and 
aged ladies or gentlemen, who are unable, through failing 



412 



YOU AND I. 



health or too great demands upon their time, to return calls. 
A proper respect for age or eminent attainments is always an 
evidence of refinement and good breeding. 

New 2~ears Calls. — In the busy life of America, there 
seems so little opportunity for social intercourse, that so pleas- 
ant a custom as the call on the first day of the year should 
not be suffered to die out for lack of observance. The old 
days in which a man could seize the slightest pretext for an 
excuse to call upon a lady on this day, have passed away. In 
those primitive times, the fact that he was an employe of the 
master of the house, happened to live in the same block, furn- 
ished the family larder, or at some remote time had been 
introduced to the hostess or one of her family, afforded ample 
excuse for his invasion of her house on this particular occasion. 
Naturally, ladies of refinement, while too well-bred to show 
their annoyance, objected to this miscellaneous assortment of 
strangers, whose manners were often not at all to their tastes; 
and this may have had something to do with the decline of 
the custom in very large cities like New York. In these days, 
a gentleman only calls upon those ladies who are acquaint- 
ances of the ladies of his own family, or who have, by their 
graciousness to him on former occasions, assured him by word 
or manner that he will be welcome. He may also, if an entire 
stranger, venture, if asked by a friend who is sure of his recep- 
tion. Less formality is observed on this day than upon any 
other, and a gentleman is not expected to ask permission 
regarding whom he shall bring, but may call, accompanied by 
one or even two strangers, if he wish. It is a foregone con- 
clusion that his companions are fit persons to introduce to his 
friends, else he would not be with them; for this reason he 
should be careful about choosing his company. Strangers, 
thus introduced, need not feel agrieved if the hostess fail 



THE CALLING CUSTOMS OF GENTLEMEN. 



413 



afterward to recognize them. With the very best intentions 
in the world, she may be the one who, out of a multitude of 
faces seen at such a time, can not recall those of strangers. 

The Acquaintance Not Continued. — For the above and 
other reasons, an acquaintance begun upon New Year's day is 
no plea for its continuance, unless the lady take the initiative, 
and evince by her recognition and manner that she desires it. 

What to Wear. — A gentleman should be attired in a morn- 
ing costume of dark coat, vest and tie, and light or dark 
trousers, as suits him best. He wears what would be suitable 
at any time for a call upon a lady. His gloves should be of a 
neutral tint. A dress suit is never correct until afternoon or 
evening. 

When to Begin. — Some gentlemen who have a large list 
begin to call as early as 1 1 a. m. ; but 1 2 m. is generally con- 
sidered in better form. Should a gentleman be obliged to 
begin at the former time, he should choose those families 
where he is most intimately acquainted, reserving the formal 
calls for a later hour. Calls may be made until ten in the 
evening. - 

Sending Cards. — Many gentlemen who can not visit 
enclose cards in envelopes, and send them by messenger or, 
the day before New Year's, by mail, to their lady friends. 
Where the gentleman drives from door to door and leaves 
cards, the right side is folded over to assure the ladies of 
the fact that they are delivered in person. Opinions regarding 
the correctness of this custom are divided, a very good 
authority having said: " Let a gentleman call, and in person, or 
take no notice of the day." 

The Proper Card. — A gentleman's visiting card, without 
additions of any sort, is considered in the best taste. 



414 



YOU AND I. 



Entering the House. — If there is a man at the door with a 
tray or card-basket, the caller deposits his card therein, other- 
wise he leaves it upon a table or any other convenient recep- 
tacle in the hall. If he is not known to the hostess, he sends 
in his card to her, and the guest or lady member of the family, 
with whom he is acquainted, introduces him to the lady of 
the house. 

He may or may not, as he chooses, leave his overcoat, hat 
or cane in the hall. Gentlemen generally prefer to retain 
these belongings, as the New Year's call rarely exceeds fifteen 
minutes in length, and is often limited to five. He may relieve 
himself of these incumbrances if he wish, as the ladies leave 
this to his own option. He does not remove his gloves, nor is 
it necessary for him to apologize for their presence as he takes 
the hand of his hostess. 

If the room be full, and he a stranger, he may only be 
introduced to the lady of the house, but, should the opportunity 
offer, he is at perfect liberty to speak to other ladies who 
are present. 

He has a right to decline refreshments, if he do not wish to 
partake. He should decline wine or any spirituous liquor in 
every instance. If he make this a rule, and adhere to it, no 
one can feel offended. He wishes to appear to the best advan- 
tage on a day when he will be sure to have to stand the test 
of comparison with many others. He can not afford to run 
the risk of appearing the least bit muddled, stupid or loudly 
loquacious, which may be the result of a glass or two. He 
most decidedly can not risk the unpardonable insult to a lady 
of appearing in her presence intoxicated, which will probably 
be the result of a good many glasses. 

The arrival of more guests should be the signal for retiring. 
The leave-taking should be brief. A gentleman may take 
his departure from the refreshment room, without again 



THE CALLING CUSTOMS OF GENTLEMEN. 



415 



visiting the drawing-room, if the latter apartment be very full 
and the hostess much engaged. 

Clergymen do not make calls, but receive at their own resi- 
dences. A gentleman alwa}*s tries to include in his calls the 
minister in charge of the church he attends. 

On the first New Year's day after marriage, the husband 
does not make calls, but receives with his wife, at home. 



VISITORS AND VISITING. 




GH-STRUNG, busy, 
.intense life is characteristic 
of the advanced civilization 
of our country to-day. 
The man or woman who 
is not devoted to a profes- 
sion, trying to compass a 
great ambition, or in the 
race for riches, where 
there are so many com- 
petitors, is at least in 
pursuit of pleasure with the same unresting, feverish 
haste. 

There are very few women, possessed of average 
health, whose day is not filled with a programme 
which is regularly carried out, more or less success- 
fully, as circumstances will allow. True, the mass 
of " unconsidered trifles" of which such days are made, may 
seem of little moment to one of grave aims, but to him whose 
life is made of trifles, each one is of vast importance. 

The "help" of to-day has arrived at a point where either 
a radical revolution or the deluge must be close at hand. 
Lack of training, incompetence, impudence and independence 

416 



YOU AND I. 



417 



on the part of the help, and ill-trained, inexperienced, unreas- 
onable, or thoroughly bad mistresses, are some of the causes 
of the household reign of terror, which follows the entrance of 
the " new girl 11 on the scene of devastation. The mistresses 
of some homes spend a large share of their time interviewing, 
engaging, and " breaking in " new servants, and the back 
stairs of some mansions continually echo with the tramp of the 
porter, either bringing in or carrying out trunks and valises at 
ail hours of the day. Unfeeling, unreasonable mistresses are 
sometimes accountable for indolent, unambitious help, and 
vice versa) and always in the end the righteous have to suffer. 
But the servant-girl problem must not be discussed here. It 
would fill a book, let alone one chapter. Suffice it to say, it is 
here and must be faced. Taking this and the high-pressure 
living into consideration, the person who contemplates a 
" swooping down " unexpectedly, or even at a day or two's 
notice, with bag and baggage, upon a household, must be 
either inexcusably thoughtless or exceedingly selfish. How 
can such a guest tell what plans have been made by the hostess? 
Perhaps other friends who have been expressly invited are 
expected, or have already arrived and the house is full. Per- 
haps there is no servant, or the household is in the transition 
state between the going out of the old administration and the 
coming in of the new; or the lady of the house may have 
arranged, herself, to make a visit, and the coming of the 
invader thus despoils the plans of two families. 

A General Invitation. — In view of the above contingencies, 
we most emphatically say, do not accept such an invitation as 
" Do come and make us a visit," though felt to be earnest and 
cordial, without something being added unto it by way of 
preliminaries. A lady should scarcely go to city, town or 
country to visit her own sister, without first writing to announce 
her coming, or asking if it will be convenient. Even the 



41 S VISITORS AND VISITING. 

members of one family may have times when they can more 
perfectly enjoy each other's society than at others. 

The Right of a Hostess. — The hostess unquestionably has a 
right to say whom she will entertain; and none but intimate 
friends, between whom there is a perfect understanding, will 
even write to announce an intended visit, but will wait for a 
special invitation. 




The Time Specified. — When such an invitation is extended, 
the time for coming and length of visit should be clearly stated. 
By this arrangement, the guest will not unconsciously disar- 
range her friends' plans by staying too long, or frustrate any 
pleasant projects for her entertainment, by departing before 
they can be carried out. At English country houses, the time 
and duration of a visit is always specified, and the guest who 
makes himself particularly charming and desirable, is urged to 
repeat the visit at a very early date, instead of being persist- 
ently pressed to remain. It is understood that the visitor' has 
other invitations and plans, even if the host or hostess may not. 



YOU AND I. 419 

A Limit Made by the Guest. — When no time has been set 
for departure, in the invitation, the visitor will make his own 
limitation, and inform his entertainer. If the latter has made 
no such specification, he does not like to ask his guest how 
long he intends to remain, and yet it may be inconvenient for 




"speed the parting." 



him not to know. When one has to set his own time, it is 
best to limit his visit to three days, or a week, according to 
the degree of intimacy, or the distance he may have come. 
If the host or hostess insists on a prolongation of the visit, 
■arrangements can be satisfactorily made accordingly 

Making One^s Friend a Convenience. — We by no means 
wish to discourage or underrate the beautiful old institution of 
hospitality. We confess to a sort of reverence for the sacred- 
ness in which it was held by the Arab in his tent, and the 



420 



VISITORS AND VISITING. 



ancient nomadic nations of the earth. But it meant a very 
different thing in those simple, primitive times from what it 
means now. In those days, there were no hotels. Now, if a 
person wish to see a distant city, or have business in the place, 
we can see no human reason why he should not stop at a 
hotel, or why he should feel that he is at liberty to look upon 
his friend's house as such. Let him, if he wish to see his 
friend, by all means send his card, or call; then, if his company 
be urged for a visit, he experiences no loss of self-respect in the 
acceptance. 

Duties of the Host or Hostess. — Offer your guests the best 
that you can give, and then make no apologies for having no 
better. See that their food is well cooked and neatly served, 
that the sleeping-room is in order, well aired, and if the 
weather be cold, as comfortably heated as possible. Foolish 
lavishness and ostentation are a proof that the wealth which 
prompts them is a recent acquirement. Unless a hostess be a 
sufficiently good housekeeper to keep the domestic machinery 
oiled and noiseless, unpalatable food, irregular meals and slat- 
ternly service will detract much from the most cultured 
atmosphere and the warmest welcome. Inform your guest 
of your hours for serving meals, but if it should happen that 
for any sufficient reason he can not be promptly at hand, serve 
him, if long after the meal, with a light lunch, and much good 
humor. If your help is so insufficient as to make this a great 
inconvenience, he will not be apt to allow you to go to the 
trouble of serving him between meals again. But you would 
better serve lunches every day than to have such iron-bound 
rules regarding meals that he feels like a condemned criminal 
if not on hand at the instant. Neither neglect nor worry him 
with too much attention. The moment he begins to feel that 
he is being entertained, he begins to suspect that he is a burden. 



YOU AND I. 



421 



If possible, arrange some amusements for his special benefit, to 
show that you wish to please him; but, if you have household or 
other duties to perform, do not hesitate to go about them as usual. 
If you have a letter to write, or are in the habit of taking an 
afternoon nap, do not hesitate to retire to your own apartment 
and take the necessary time. " If," says Mrs. Sherwood, " you 
have a tiresome guest, who insists upon following you around 
and weighing heavily on your hands, be firm, go to your own 
room and lock the door. 1 ' 

Remember that if you do not care for certain hours for 
retirement, your visitor may, and if he evince a disposition 
for such a time, respect his inclination. In other words, let 
him alone. If you are entertaining in the country, do not 
insist on your visitor accompanying you to church, or to tea- 
parties, or visits with people in whom he has no interest. It 
is polite of course to invite him, but do not press the matter; 
let him feel that he is at perfect liberty to decline. 

The Model Host or Hostess. — A recent writer has said: 
" To be a charming hostess requires all the best qualities of 
the legendary angel, combined with the fascinating wisdom of 
the arch-enemy. A morbid devotion to truthfulness in word, 
deed and countenance is impossible to the cordial or even the 
courteous hostess. She is expected, by the sacredness of her 
position, ' to smile though the China fall. 7 " And we might add, 
she is still compelled to smile though her guest bore and tire 
her beyond all ordinary endurance ; for the rites of hospitality 
demand that the guest, if he be a burden or inconvenience, 
shall never know it. 

We must look, after all, to the high-bred English for the 
model entertainers. On arriving at the country house, the 
guest is conducted to his room, where a cup of tea or some 
light refreshment is served. The servant in attendance 



4-22 



VISITORS AND VISITING. 



informs him at what hour before dinner he will be received in 
the drawing-room. He rarely meets the host or hostess until 
this hour. Sometimes, an invitation is brought to him to drive 
before dinner, but when this is not done, he is at liberty to 
seek his own amusement until the time for presenting himself 
to his entertainers arrives. Generally, the hostess, before her 
guests separate for the night, tells them that they will find, in 
the morning, horses at their disposal, with which to drive 
where they please, she asks if they have any projects in which 
she can be of any assistance, or she suggests an excursion or 
picnic to which they are at liberty to go or stay, as suits them 
best. They are asked at what hour they prefer breakfast, and 
are given the choice of having it in their own rooms or in the 
dining-room, and at the same time are invited to meet the 
hostess at an informal lunch in the middle of the day. 

While the tine establishment and trained servants of the 
English hostess may not fall to the lot of a great many hos- 
pitable souls, they can still make their guests happy by giving 
them a kindly welcome, and then allowing them liberty and 
the pursuit of happiness according to their own sweet wills. 
It does not follow that you do not respect or love a person be- 
cause you do not wish to talk to him, or be talked to by him, 
from sunrise till bed time. Human nature can not stand such 
a strain. This is one of the reasons why many charming 
people accept no invitations, invariably stop at hotels when 
away from home, and avoid entertaining others, because the 
exactions of " visiting " are chains too heavy to be borne. 

Duties of the Guest. — In houses where the ladies of the 
family perform the domestic duties themselves, or perhaps 
with the assistance of one servant, the guest, who is consider- 
ate, will first of all endeavor to add as little as possible to the 
labor of her friends. She will make her own bed and arrange 



YOU AND I. 



423 



her clothes and belongings, so that time need not be spent in 
making the room tidy after her. She will ask to assist in any 
light work which she can do, and will be careful to be punct- 
ual at meals. If she is not allowed to help, she will, after 
breakfast, retire to her own room, absent herself for a walk, 

or, at least, not intrude 
herself in the way of those 
who are obliged to busy 
themselves with house- 
hold or other tasks. 

In any case, the well- 
bred guest will conform, 
as far as possible, to all 
rules and regulations of 
the house, such as the 
hours for rising, retiring, 
and having meals. She 
will, if possible, fall in with 
and help along any little 
amusements which the family enjoy, such as parlor games, a 
contest at chess with the master of the house, or a rubber of 
whist with any of the family who happen to be devoted to 
the game. She will express pleasure and thanks at any 
project formed for her amusement, and, as far as her strength 
will permit, will hold herself at the disposal of her entertainers. 
She will not accept invitations, or entertain her own friends 
without consulting her host or hostess. 

The guest, who is a lady or gentleman, will not send the ser- 
vants of the house on errands, find fault with or notice the 
bad behavior of children, or kick the family dog or cat. 

Making Presents, — The guest who wishes to make one of 
the family a present, should bestow it on the hostess, or on the 
youngest child. 




424 



VISITORS AXD VISITIXG. 



Tour Host's Friends. — Be very particular regarding the 
treatment of the friends of your host or hostess. Even if they 
be distasteful to you. you must endeavor to conceal your dis- 
like, and avoid all unfavorable criticisms after their departure. 

Taking Leave. — Before going, express to your entertainer 
the pleasure you have had in the visit. Be sure to write to 
your friends on your arrival home, assuring them of the fact, 
and repeating your appreciation of their kindness. Whatever 
skeleton you may have found in their closet, remember you 
have partaken of their hospitality, and be not the one to open 
the door, for even the slightest peep at the ghastly possession, 
to any one else. 



CEREMONIOUS DINNERS. 




T no kind of social entertainment is it so 
important that the guests should be congenial 
and well suited to each other as at a dinner. The 
hostess should be quite sure that the elements she is 
about to bring together will coalesce with harmoni- 
ous results. The same people are obliged to be 
longer in each other's society, without any escape, 
than at any other form of social gathering. You 
and your neighbor at the table must talk, or you are painfully 
conscious of boring each other, and being considered sticks by 
all the rest. Imagine the situation when you have not one idea 
or taste in common. General conversation should at intervals 
bring the whole company en rapport or into sympathy; but, 
in these days the prevailing tendency seems to be to talk in 
pairs. The era of great conversers, who could entertain a 
whole tableful with their wit and eloquence, seems to have 
gone by. We can not believe there are no longer any such 
talkers as those of the old time; we rather think there are no 
such listeners. Much of the spirit and inspiration of a speaker 
departs when he finds his audience gradually breaking up into 
opposition groups of twos and threes. He naturally feels that 
he is not making himself interesting. A little more cultiva- 
tion of the art of listening would no doubt help to develop the 
.art of conversation, not only at dinners but everywhere else. 

425 



4:26 



CEREMONIOUS DINNERS. 



The Old Style and the New. — Nowhere has the growth 
of luxury in this country been more apparent than in the pomp 
and circumstance which now accompanies modern dinners. 
Time was, not many years back, when a fine white damask 
table-cloth and napkins, a solid silver service, some good china 
and glass, furnished forth the festive board of a " blue blood n 
or merchant prince on the most stately occasions. If flowers 
were used, they were few, and the hostess of those days had 
not yet imagined the quaint and curious designs and the pro- 
fusion of color and fragrance which is part of the ceremonious 
dinner of to-day. Two or three white, cut or engraved glasses 
supplied the places of the five of various tints and shapes 
which now stand next each plate; and menu cards, bonbon- 
meres and favors worth a house and lot, were follies not yet 
dreamed of in their philosophy. But, notwithstanding the fact 
that extravagance is the fashion, there are still given some 
old style dinners, where good feeling, wisdom and wit glow 
and sparkle quite as beautifully as they do around these more 
ostentatious boards. 

We do not say but that the charmingly decorated porcelain 
and pottery are works of art, which are to be encouraged as 
part of the real education of a people; and we see no reason 
why any one with a particle of artistic taste should wish to 
return to the white expanse of old time table furnishing. We 
merely wish to suggest that the absence of these modern 
luxuries does not make a good dinner in good company an 
absolute failure, and that no one should hold back from 
extending such a hospitality because he is not the fortunate 
possessor of sets of Sevres, Dresden, or old Spode. 

The Table. — The long extension table is most in use, as it 
more readily accommodates itself to the number of guests 
than any other. 



4 



YOU AND I. 



427 



The Table-Goth. — The table should be first covered with a 
canton flannel spread. This ma)* be white if the cloth is to 
be the usual snowy damask, and red if the outer cover is the 
open work table-cover. One need never fear of going wrong 
in using a fine white damask, and eschewing the silk and gold 
embroidered affairs. A table-cloth that will not wash is in 
decidedly bad taste. The long fold down the middle forms 
the line upon which the centre ornaments are to be placed. 

Decorations. — There are about as many devices for mak- 
ing a table look pretty as there are varieties in porcelain, 
faience, flowers, and napery. If the hostess, or whoever 
directs the decorations, have artistic taste or even a certain 
knack or skill at combining colors or forms, she may carry 
out any plan or device of her own with success, and even find 
herself honored as being the originator of a fashion ; but, if 
she be not quite sure of her skill, rather than run the risk of 
future ridicule, she would better keep in the safe, beaten path 
of conventional customs. As some one has remarked: " It is 
better to be sure than sorry." A fashion which has found 
much favor is the scarf or mat of crimson velvet laid over the 
table-cloth down the centre. This is to give a bit of rich 
color to the table and to serve as a background for the decor- 
ations to be placed upon it. Sometimes these are banks of 
flowers in trays, or silver salvers, lined with mirrors to simu- 
late miniature lakes, upon whose surface float artificial swans, 
or, perhaps, a ship of flowers. Sometimes, tall, slender vases 
of graceful or fantastic design contain blossoms and trailing 
vines; and again a French flower girl in bisque stands amid a 
bed of ferns, and supports an overflowing basket of roses. 
Some very beautiful designs have been entirely of ferns of the 
different varieties, gracefully and effectively arranged. 



428 



CEREMONIOUS DINNERS. 



Dinner Cards. — Of odd, pretty or fantastic devices in 
menu or dinner cards, there seems to be no end. A good idea 
for starting conversation and raising a merry humor is to hit 
off delicately and good-naturedly any hobby, occupation or 
pursuit of those present, by the design upon the card. These 
little drawings can be done in ink, sepia, or colors, by any one 
who has even a slight aptitude for such things, or appropriate 
designs can be copied from books or magazines. Suppose, 
for instance, an artist is to be present, his or her card should 
show a small easel draped with a scarf and holding a little 



"haps just begun 



what would be easier to 
brushes, or, if a more elab- 
can be managed, an out- 
door outfit of umbrella, 
\ easel and stool, with an 
\ artist sketching. A 
student or literary 




person might have a study- 
table littered with paper, 
I pens and ink, with a lamp, 
suggestive of " midnight 
oil," and, beside it, a large pair of spectacles. A musical 
individual should have his or her favorite instrument. 



YOU AND I. 429 

If it should happen to be a piano, and this is found too 
difficult for the amateur artist, simply the key-board could 
be represented; a violin, harp, or any of the smaller instru- 
ments will lend themselves readily to means of decora- 
tion. If a vocalist is to be served, a bar or two of 
music, perhaps that of a favorite song with the title or a few 
of the words, would be appropriate. Suppose we have an 
angler, what could be more complimentary than a rod and 
fish-basket, or perhaps two or three portraits of his alleged 
victims of the finny tribe. If he a be mighty hunter, a gun 
and game-bag, or some dead birds would be equally fitting. 
The lady with a craze for pottery painting, could have a 
sketch of a vase, plaque and punch-bowl, prettily grouped, 
and the one with a particular liking for some domestic animal 
might have her pet poodle, pug, or parrot set forth in his. 
most engaging attitude. Suppose we have a friend who 
would continually a-journeying go, make a group of his valise, 
umbrella, and time-tables, or a retreating train of cars, with 
the gentleman in the rear, just a little too late. An oarsman 
can have his oars and racing shell, a yachtsman his yacht, 
and an athlete his dumb-bells and Indian clubs. A graceful 
compliment to a foreigner would be the flag or arms of his 
country, together with our own. Should he be a diplomate or 
secretary of a legation, an official-looking paper or papers with 
seals attached, and pens and ink-stand might be added to the 
national emblems. 

It* is perhaps needless to suggest that the work upon such 
trifles should be kept exceedingly neat and dainty, and the 
card clean and crisp. 

Favors and Bonbonnieres. — The pretty trifles containing 
sugar plums, or simply the favors which are given to each 
lady guest to carry away as a souvenir of the occasion, have 



430 



CEREMONIOUS DINNERS. 



given employment to the inventive brains and skilful fingers 
of an army of workmen, both in our country and in Europe. 
They are pretty, fantastic, or expensive, according to the 
taste, common-sense or purse of the giver. The prices for 
each, range all the way from fifty cents to fifty dollars, the 
latter being not an uncommon price for a hand-painted fan, 
lace handkerchief, or artistically chased silver box, which 
have been bestowed on guests at many recent lunches or din- 
ners given by ladies of wealth. Less expensive favors are 
bags of plush and satin richly embroidered and trimmed with 
lace, and a very pretty conceit is the tiny muff of velvet, silk 
and ribbons, in which is concealed the bonbonniere of sweets. 

Fans are much in favor, and pretty satin ones can be had at 
from twelve to one hundred dollars a dozen. Very pretty 
ones of paper, of Japanese make, can be obtained at much 
less cost. 

Gilded wicker baskets, lined with bright tinted satin or 
plush, inside of which was placed silver paper to hold the con- 
fectionery, quite delighted the hearts of some lady guests at a 
dinner given about two years ago, since which time they have 
become very popular for such uses, as they are so easily con- 
verted into useful and dainty work-baskets. 

Another style of bonbonniere, which can afterward be used 
for a party bag or in numerous other ways, is the brocaded silk 
handkerchief, gathered up into the form of a bag, and deco- 
rated with tassels and lace, and satin ribbons by which it is to 
be hung. 

Painted Easter eggs in satin, plush or carved wood boxes, 
or eggs made of different materials, that can be opened, and 
are large enough to hold confectionery, come in a multitude 
of devices, and are as cheap or expensive as the buyer may 
desire. A pretty design is a painted egg lying in a nest of 
silver and gold threads in a dainty basket. 



YOU AND I. 



431 



Tiny wheelbarrows of wood, with a few pansies, daisies or 
rosebuds painted upon them, with the monogram of the 
recipient, or those of carved wood, which can afterward be 
rilled with earth, and made to hold a house plant ; or the pret- 
tily tinted ones of Dresden ware, which can afterwards be 
utilized for cut flowers, are all graceful and appropriate favors. 

Small, gilded wicker baskets, hung upon three gilt poles, 
gypsy kettle fashion, will afterwards conceal a small cup or 
vase in which cut flowers can be placed. 

Articles in pottery, which can also be used for holding 
flowers, are pale pink conch shells, sea-green dolphins, a 
group of branching coral and shells, sea-weeds floated up 
against a piece of drift-wood, a canoe pulled up on the shore, 
a lunch-basket with a bit of pink or buff napkin peeping over 
the edge, a small donkey carrying pale blue panniers as large 
as himself, a churn of pink and silver, or a gaily decked 
peasant with a large fish-basket swung upon his back. 

Others, which open and disclose the bonbons within, are 
large roses, a sedate head of a Turk, whose fez can be easily 
lifted off, a rosy apple which is quickly halved, or a silvery 
clam-shell among pale pink sea-weeds. 

The great majority who cannot afford to give expensive 
favors, can And at the wholesale stores, where they can be 
bought much cheaper than at retail, or can themselves manu- 
facture, very pretty little affairs of gilt card-board and satin. 
A favorite design in these materials is the pair of bellows, one 
side of which opens to receive the sugar-plums. Another is 
the old-fashioned carpet-bag with puffed satin ends. A 
powder-horn hung by silken cords and tassels, if made at 
home, can have two flat sides cut the required shape, and 
joined together with puffed satin. The card-board can be 
covered with gold-paper, gilded or painted with the name or 



432 



CEREMONIOUS DINNERS. 



initials of the recipient and some appropriate design. A hat 
or shoe might also be made in the same way. 

A conceit which would be especially effective for a dinner 
given to army officers and their wives, would be a miniature 
cannon or stack of arms, with chocolates arranged in a pile 
like cannon balls beside them. A Greek or Roman helmet, 
or a small Krupp gun, with its large bore, which would be 
adequate for holding sweets, would also be appropriate for 
such an occasion, if manufactured in the deft and dainty man- 
ner of which the French toy maker is such a master. 

The person who is skilful with the brush has, within easy 
reach, a multitude of pretty fancies that are sure to please. 
Small wood covers for books, or photograph cases, or larger 
ones for music, decorated with an owl sitting on a swaying 
branch, over which creeps woodbine or ivy; a flight of birds; 
a butterfly settling down upon a spray of golden-rod; or a 
branch of wild roses, with a spider 1 s web in the corner, are all 
appropriate designs for such articles. 

Small boxes of wood, or those covered with satin, can also 
be decorated in the same way, or with the quaint little Kate 
Greenaway figures in color or in outline. 

Tiny banners of satin, with some simple design, in which 
may appear the monogram or initials of the lady to whom it 
is to be given, are also acceptable. 

Small leghorn hats filled with flowers, and having ribbons 
by which they can be hung upon the arm, were the very 
aesthetic favors which delighted the hearts of twelve ladies at a 
luncheon given about a year ago by a leader in the social throng. 

Conducive to merriment are cats and kittens with almost 
human expressions, owls with eyes rolled up or cast down 
in a languishing manner, and bears in stained glass attitudes. 
These amusing conceits are to be found in china or composi- 



YOU AND I. 



433 



tion, and open to disclose tempting caramels or sugared 
fruits. 

In the latter material, fruits and melons, elephants, tigers, 
lions, and even the harmless, necessary cow, are pressed into 
service as bon bonnier es. Quite inexpensive favors in paste- 
board come in the form of steam yachts, ferry-boats and gon- 
dolas, to be loaded with sugar plums. Besides these are 
musical instruments, such as banjos, guitars, mandolins, tam- 
bourines and drums, and the different implements used in such 
games as lawn-tennis, and battledoor and shuttlecock. 

The very realistic toads, crocodiles, snails, beetles and old 
shoes, which have appeared on some tables, we need scarcely 
suggest, are anything but " a dainty dish to set before the king," 
or indeed any ordinary person. Their presence at a feast is 
sometimes quite enough to destroy the appetites of sensitive 
or slightly squeamish people. 

Bonbonnieres, favors and dinner cards are simply a caprice, 
and not a necessity. The hostess whose taste does not lead 
her in this direction, or whose purse will not admit of such 
expenditures, may give very charming dinners or lunches 
without anything of the kind. 

Laying the Table. — The centre ornaments being arranged, 
the person laying the table next measures a hand's length 
from the edge of the table towards the centre, which will be 
the proper line upon which to place the water goblet, around 
which he groups the claret, wine, hock and champagne glasses. 
The plate comes next, upon which is placed the folded nap- 
kin, holding a roll of bread. At the right of the plate are 
usually to be seen two knives and a soup spoon; at the left, 
three forks. Very thin glasses, which are sometimes used for 
choice Madeira, are not put on until the latter part of the 
dinner. 

28 



434 CEREMONIOUS DINNERS. 

If oysters are to be served on the half-shell, a small majolica 
plate containing them and an oyster fork is placed beside 
the larger plate, as oysters served in this style are to be eaten 
first of all. 

When menu holders of china or silver are to be used, these 
are placed before each plate, but when these are dispensed 
with, the card is laid on the plate. 

A salt-cellar of some pretty or fanciful design should be 
placed at each plate. The carafe should not be set on until 
the last thing, so that the water may be cold from its fresh 
contact with the ice. 

Serving a la Russe. — As the practice of serving entirely 
from side tables, or a la Russe, as it is called, is now consid- 
ered the most elegant, no spaces are required to be left for large 
dishes, carving-knives, forks or spoons; all vacancies being 
filled with baskets and numerous designs of silver, gilt, glass 
or faience, holding fruit, bonbons or confections of various sorts. 

The Sideboard. — This should have ready for use the 
reserve dinner plates, sauce-ladles, knives, forks, tumblers and 
Madeira glasses. On another table or sideboard should be 
placed the finger-bowls, desert plates, the small spoons, coffee- 
cups and saucers. At the table nearest the door, or, if the 
room be small, in an adjoining room or hall, should be served 
all the principal dishes. As the roasts are to be carved here, 
this table should contain the plates necessary for the course, 
and the accessories, carving-knife, fork, steel, etc. The soup 
tureen and soup plates are also kept on this table before the 
entrance of the guests. 

Plates removed from the table are immediately sent to the 
kitchen. 

Champagne and hock are not decanted, but are kept in ice 
pails until needed. Wines poured into decanters are placed 



YOU AND I. 



435 



upon the principal sideboard, and when required are brought 
first to the host, who sends them around to his guests. 

The Order of Wines. — White wine is usually offered with 
the fish, sherry with the soup, and claret or champagne with 
the roast. The guest, if he take the latter, should be asked 
if he prefer dry or sweet champagne. A napkin should be 
wrapped around the bottle, as its recent contact with the ice 
causes drippings, which are decidedly objectionable upon 
dainty toilettes. 

The Servants. — One well-trained servant can wait upon ten 
people, which is a very good number for a dinner. It 
generally requires three to serve twenty-four. In some estab- 
lishments where there is a competent butler, the mistress 
requires of him only to direct and manage the under servant 
or servants, to remain behind her chair, and to hand the wine. 
Sometimes the butler serves all the courses, and waits upon a 
small dinner party with no assistance. Frequently he is 
helped by a maid-servant. 

The Hour. — Seven or eight o'clock are the usual hours for 
dining. The former is more in favor in this country, as it 
leaves more time for fulfilling evening engagements. What- 
ever the hour is, it should be distinctly stated in the invitation, 
and the guest should take particular care not to be one minute 
behind time. He must indeed be of more than ordinary metal 
who can face with equanimity a roomful of impatient guests, 
and an anxious host and hostess who are thinking of the cool- 
ing soup and the spoiling courses. Of course, none of this will 
be visible on their faces, but if he knows anything of " dining 
out," he must be sure that it is all there, and that he is the 
active and sole cause. About five or ten minutes before the 
hour, is the proper time to arrive. 



436 



CEREMOXIOUS DIXXERS. 



Entering, — The gentleman guest will find in the hall a card 
bearing his name and that of the lady he is to take out to the 
dining-room. Sometimes accompanying this card is a bouton- 
niere, which he places in his button-hole. If a lady be with 
him, he allows her to precede him in entering .the drawing- 
room. If he be not acquainted with the lady assigned to him, 
he asks the hostess to introduce him. When cards are not 
provided, the lady of the house should quietly inform each 
gentleman which lad}" he is to take in to dinner. 

Going in to Dinner. — The butler, or head waiter comes to 
the entrance and silently bows to the host, who is inwardly on 
the alert for this signal of announcement. The latter offers 
his left arm to the lady who is to be most honored. Some- 
times it is a noted literary woman or artist who is the lioness 
of the occasion, and for whom the dinner is given, or it may 
be the wife of the lion of the hour, or the most celebrated 
man present, or, if no such distinction can be made, then it 
should be the eldest lady, providing, of course, she is old 
enough not to resent such discrimination. The hostess comes 
last with the gentleman whom she particularly wishes to 
honor. Each guest finds his or her name written upon cards 
placed upon their plates over the menu card. Sometimes the 
host previously informs them upon which side of the table 
they are to sit, which is a very good arrangement for pre- 
venting confusion. The ladies and gentlemen stand at their 
places until the hostess is seated, when the gentleman, having 
his right arm free, arranges the lady's chair and places her at 
his right. If there are any vacant chairs, they are, if possible, 
left the farthest from the entertainers, as it is pleasant for the 
latter to be as near as they can to their guests. 

The First Course. — When oysters are found next the 
plate, these are eaten, or pretended to be eaten, by all. Soup, 



YOU AND I. 



437 



which comes next, is refused by no one, and even the one who 
has a deadly aversion to this part of the menu, should take 
lessons of the people who eat on the stage, and appear to be 
enjoying it, while taking very little. We need scarcely add 
that no one will commit the enormity of taking soup a second 
time, as, in that case, the whole company must wait for one 
person. Other courses may be refused, but never soup. 

Taking Wine. — Contrary to the usual custom, some 
people had begun to give dinners without wines, even before 
Mrs. Hayes, at the White House, heroically set her face 
against the use of liquors at the feast. But the example of 
the first lady in the land had the effect of strengthening the 
resolve of many who had not before the strength to carry out 
their intentions in this respect. Nevertheless, the force of old 
established custom and the taste of some people still seem to 
require wine at the dinner. In Europe it is about as much of 
a necessity as bread ; and foreigners and those who have spent 
much time abroad miss it, when absent from the table, as the 
tea or coffee drinker does his favorite beverage. 

The average American can not drink wine like the foreigner. 
His more nervous organization actually forbids it. Some con- 
stitutions will not stand a drop of spirituous liquor. Others 
must take it very sparingly. Still others are teetotalers on 
principle. Having, in this country, seen so much of the ter- 
rible effects of intemperance, they shun even the first step of 
the downward flight. 

For these and other reasons, the host or guests have no 
right to feel offended if a gentleman or lady refuses wine. 
This should be done as silently and unobtrusively as possible. 
A shake of the head, or simply placing the fingers over the 
glass, will suffice; or, if one wish, he may allow his glasses 
to be filled, and sip them once or twice, or let them remain 



438 



CEREMOXIO US DINNERS. 



untouched. If toasts are given, the latter plan is the best, as 
no one wishes to appear so discourteous as not to raise his 
glass on such an occasion. But if one have good or sufficient 
reasons for refusing, especially if it be on principle, he should 
make no remarks on the subject. A temperance lecture is 
decidedly out of place at such a time, when no one is supposed 
to be in need of this advice, and where it is a positive insult to 
the host. 

Rising from the Table. — When all have dined, the hostess, 
bows to the lady at the right of the host, and rises. This is 
the signal for all to rise and pass to the drawing-room, except 
when the custom of gentlemen remaining after the ladies is 
observed. In the latter case the gentleman who accompanied 
the hostess in to dinner opens the door for her to pass out, 
and all the gentlemen remain standing until the ladies have 
left the room. Wine and cigars are then discussed, either in 
the dining-room or another apartment, while the ladies chat 
together in the drawing-room. The custom of gentle- 
men remaining at the table is thought by many to be one 
"more honored in the breach than the observance;" and is 
gradually going out of fashion. In many of the recent, elegant 
dinners, the gentlemen rose with the ladies and accompanied 
them to the drawing-room. It seems that, out of deference to 
their fair companions, gentlemen might postpone, for a short 
time, their after-dinner cigar, and certainly the opportunities 
for taking wine with the courses are more than sufficient for a 
temperate man. In the minds of some, the custom is always 
more or less associated with the dark ages. 

After Dinner. — When coffee is not served at table after 
the desert, it is served in the drawing-room, half an hour or so 
later, after the gentlemen have come in. In such cases the 
hostess usually sits by the coffee-urn, and the gentlemen hand 



YOU AND 1. 



439 



the coffee-cups to the ladies, a servant following with sugar, 
cream, and sometimes a cut glass bottle containing brandy. 

Taking Leave. — Guests should remain about one hour 
after dinner, and not later than two hours. Should one be 
obliged to leave immediately after dining, he or she should 
explain this to the hostess directly after arriving, in which 
case there can be a withdrawal without any formal leave- 
taking. 

Calls After a Dinner. — Calls should be made upon the 
hostess within a week after a dinner, by all who have been 
honored by an invitation, whether accepted or not. Gentle- 
men whose time is much absorbed in business, making it incon- 
venient to do much calling, may send their cards by their 
wives or lady relatives. When this is impossible, they may be 
sent by post, but this should be the very last resort, as a single 
gentleman, if he have not the time to call, should at least offer 
the civility of leaving his card in person. 

The Invitation. — Invitations for a dinner are usually sent a 
week or two before the event. They can be either written or 
engraved. Sometimes, ladies who give a great many dinners, 
keep on hand engraved forms which can be filled with names 
and dates as the occasion requires. The usual wording is the 
following : 

Mr. and Mrs. John Grayling 
request the pleasure of 

Mr. and Mrs. Stuart BurrelVs company at dinner, 
on Tuesday, March ninth, 



at seven o'clock. 



CEREMOXIOUS DIXXERS. 



In Honor of a Guest. — When the dinner is given in honor 
of some distinguished person or a guest from some other city, 
there is added to the invitation the words : kk To meet Mr. 
Guv Courtney of Washington; " or a separate card is enclosed 
on which it is written or engraved in this form: 

To meet 

Mr. Guy Courtney. 

of Washington. 

R. S. V. P. no longer appear on dinner invitations, as it is 
understood that all such invitations must be answered. 

Acceptance or Regrets. — The recipient of an invitation 
should answer it immediately, either accepting or declining. 
An acceptance may be expressed in the following terms: 

Mr. and Mrs. Stuart Burr ell 
accept with ??iuch pleasure 
Mr. and Mrs. John Grayling* s Invitation 
for March ninth. 

Regrets may be written thus: 

Mr. and Mrs. Stuart Burrell 

regret exceedingly that owing to (whatever the cause may be) 
they cannot have the pleasure of dining with 

Mr. and Mrs John. Grayling 

on Tuesday, March ninth. 



The cause for declining should be stated very clearly, as 
nothing can be more rude than regrets with no reason as- 
signed. 



YOU AND I. 



441 



If illness, or some other urgent cause, renders attendance 
impossible after an invitation has been accepted, word should 
be sent immediately to the hostess, even if it be but a few 
minutes before the appointed hour. 

Guests from one Family. — A gentleman should not be 
invited without his wife, nor a lady without her husband, 
unless in cases where either one happens to be a guest in a 
city some distance from home, or the husband or wife of the 
person invited is absent on a protracted tour. No more than 
three from one family should be asked, unless the dinner is to 
be a very large one, or it is understood to be a family affair. 

Returning Courtesies. — Those who are in the habit of giv- 
ing dinners should, if possible, return the hospitalities they 
have received. If their resources will not allow of this kind 
of entertainment, they should seek some other method of 
returning the compliment. They should not be deterred 
from so doing because they cannot entertain so magnificently 
as the one who has opened his house to them, but should 
remember that the spirit, and not the manner of doing these 
things, is what is considered by the most refined people. If, 
for any good reasons, a lady cannot entertain, she should not 
decline invitations on this account, as it is generally under- 
stood why she does not do so, for, if society wish for her 
attendance, there must be compensation enough in her pres- 
ence, else the demand would not continue. 

While it is quite certain that a large share of entertaining 
is what some one has denominated a " give and take affair," 
it is also true that the most delightful and thoroughly success- 
ful social gatherings have been given by hostesses who 
respected and admired certain people for their minds and 
hearts alone, who invited them for these reasons, and for the 
purpose of bringing together congenial souls. With no petty 



U2 



CEREMONIOUS DINNERS. 



calculation of benefits to be received in return, they embodied 
in their social creed, the finest reading of that grand old law 
of hospitality. 

Whatever may have been omitted in the foregoing pages, 
we hope will be found in the following ingenious rhymes, 
which seem to embody about all that can be said regarding 
the rules for dining out. 

FRENCH ETIQUETTE FOR DINERS OUT. 
[From the French (Code Ceremonial) of the Countess De Bassauville.] 

In dress complete of silk and lace, 

In spirits gay and fine, 
Promptly arrive, with beaming face, 

When you go out to dine. 
Go precisely at the hour in the invitation stated, 
Nor hurry in before the time, nor ever be belated. 



YOU AND I. 



443 



To the lady for him chosen 

By the hostess able, 
Offers the gentleman his arm 

To lead her to the table. 
No lady ever should refuse the arm of Monsieur brave, 
To do otherwise he'd recognize as insult very grave. 

When en route for the dining-hall, 

No lady, called well-bred, 
Will stop, or hesitate at all : 

But, with well-measured tread, 
Will observe the strictest order, nor let any pass before, 
Both in going from the parlor, and returning to its door. 




A card should indicate your seat ; 

But, if you find it not, 
Await with manner most discreet 



Till Madame casts your lot; 
Then place yourself behind the chair Madame has signified, 
And wait her signal to sit down with presence dignified. 



4:U 



CEREMONIOUS DINNERS. 



The men should wait until they see 

The dames their napkins hold, 
Then spread them deftly on the knee, 

And do not quite unfold. 
Be not too near the table, and of the opposite beware; 
Sit upright with graceful air; lean not back upon your chair. 

'Tis called uncouth to cut one's bread; 

It should broken be; 
Upon the plate it should be spread 

And eaten leisurely. 
Accept the plate that's to you sent, nor pass it to another, 
The host who has remembered you will not forget your brother. 

Attract their glance and make a sign, 

But servants do not call. 
If you should want more bread or wine, 

Or anything at all. 
And thank them not; in serving you they serve their master still, 
Avoid all noise with knife, fork, plate, and use your jaws with skill. 

Eat with the left hand, cut with the right, 

Handle not any bones. 
Guests should not laugh, ( 'tis ill-bred quite), 

While speaking in low tones. 
Be affable to other guests as much as in you lies, 
Be attentive when your hostess the signal gives to rise. 

A part of your evening is due 

The house where you have dined; 
So, after dinner, hours two 

Are given to feast of mind. 
Then say good-bye. Within a week your hosts a visit pay, 
Their feast to praise, and of their guests the kindliest things to say. 

And courtesy requires that you 

An ample dinner give 
Within the month that does ensue; 

Unless it be you weary live 
A bachelor, a widow lorn, or lady still unwed, 
Or fortune's fickle favors are not round your pathway shed. 

M. A. R. 



IN THE DINING-ROOM. 




lujiuiiiiiij- . u _wn 



O WHERE does a per- 
son display his good 
or bad breeding more 
conspicuously than at 
the table. Look down 
the hotel or steamer 
table, where all are entire 
strangers to you, and, in 
a few minutes, you can 
jjF tell the man who is much used 
^^S^ to society or the world, the one who 
has been carefully trained when a 
d, the recluse or absent-minded man, the one who is 
entirely indifferent to matters of social culture, and the 
decidedly ill-bred man. If these things are at once detected 
at a public table, how much more are they noticed at the pri- 
vate board, where deference to ones host and hostess, and 
their friends, should make one care to be in all ways unobjec- 
tionable, and incapable of giving offense. 

The Dining-Room. — First of all, let us consider the dining- 
room. This important apartment should be well lighted and 
cheerful in furnishing and decorations. The idea that 
dining-rooms in all kinds of modern houses should imitate 
the sombre, brown dining-rooms of old, European houses, 
where every room was solemn, is a mistake which is being 

445 



U6 



YOU AND I. 



rapidly rectified in many of the handsome, new residences. 
Unquestionably, much bric-a-brac, scarfs and drapery are out 
of place, except in a very spacious apartment, as room must 
be left for the waiter to move about without being in danger 
of disarranging such things. A rich, but not sombre wall, a 
few pictures, some pretty pottery and glass on the" sideboard, 
and harmonious curtains and carpet, are capable of furnishing 
color and sparkle enough to keep any apartment from looking 
dreary, if chosen rightly. 

Chairs upholstered with leather are not only more durable, 
but for dainty toilettes, such as are likely to be worn at din- 
ners, are much better than cane, as the latter are likely to 
catch certain kinds of garniture and make havoc, especially 
with beads and pendants. 

Laying the Table. — The napery should be always clean 
and well ironed. It is better to have a good many coarse 
table-cloths, and have them fresh, than a few very fine ones 
that must be made to do duty after their daintiness has 
departed. The silver should be kept bright and well washed, 
and the glass transparent and glistening. If china or glass 
has the least roughness to the touch, it has been either 
washed or dried improperly. A dainty, sparkling table with 
plain viands is decidedly more tempting than an array of good 
things set forth with smeary glass and soiled table-cloth. 

The Breakfast Table. — For breakfast a colored spread may 
be used if preferred. The red and white, pale pink, and buff 
damasks come in very pretty and attractive designs. Nap- 
kins should match the cloth. A few flowers add very much 
to any table, and should not be forgotten at breakfast any 
more than at the more ceremonious meals. Fruit or 
melons are usually eaten first, and should, if the table 
is large, be found on sitting down at each plate. If oatmeal 



IN THE DINING-ROOM. 



447 



is served, it should come next, and should not be brought to 
the table until needed, as it is generally preferred hot. Next 
come the meats, vegetables, omelets, eggs, or hot cakes as 
they are required. With many it is the custom to have the 
entire breakfast placed upon the table before sitting down, but 
where oatmeal or cracked wheat, and fruits are to be eaten, it 
se'ems much the better plan to serve these in two courses, and 
make the meats, eggs or omelets the third, as the latter can 
then be kept hot and appetizing. 

In a large family, where there are servants, much inform- 
ality should be allowed. Members of the family, or guests, 
should be allowed latitude as to the time for appearing at the 
table. The one who has lost sleep through any cause what- 
ever, should be allowed to catch an extra nap in the morning. 
The iron-bound rule which obliges all the members of a house- 
hold to make their appearance at the table at an early hour, 
because the master of the house wishes to catch a certain 
train, is enough to rouse rebellion in a family, and keep guests 
forever from the door. If the servants are not sufficient to 
keep warm an elaborate breakfast for each straggler, let it be 
less elaborate, or let the late comers take what they find with- 
out a murmur. Coffee, oatmeal, or omelet are easily kept 
hot, and one who, for any cause whatever, has lost his rest, 
would much prefer his sleep in the morning, with simply a 
cup of hot coffee and a roll, than to be aroused and dragged 
forth unfitted for either work or pleasure for the whole day. 
Let it be understood, and especially by guests, that their 
appearance at breakfast is a matter of their own pleasure, and 
that no one will be inconvenienced by their absence, and the 
breakfast hour will cease to be a terror that haunts one's 
nights like the fear of losing an early train. Habitual late 
rising is not a practice to be encouraged, except when one's 
business or mode of life demands late retiring, but one would 



44:8 



YOU AND I. 



better rise at ten o'clock, and be good-natured and fit for his 
duties all the rest of the day, than be forced out of bed at six, 
only to drag through the time in a peevish and languid fashion. 

Lunch. — When dinner is served at six or seven o'clock, the 
midday meal is eaten at about one o'clock, or whatever hour is 
most convenient. This is usually an informal affair, with hot 
or cold meats, vegetables or salad, preserves, marmalade or 
pastry. The table-cloth and napkins may be colored as for 
breakfast or tea, but, at more ceremonious luncheons, white 
should be used. Lunch for the midday meal is rapidly grow- 
ing in favor as cities grow in size. Business men, whose 
offices or warehouses are at long distances from their homes, 
are obliged to take their lunches down town, and naturally 
prefer their dinners when " the cares that infest the day " are 
put aside, and they are at liberty to enjoy eating with their 
families. 

The Dinner Table. — Dinner, whether served in the middle 
of the day according to the old time American custom, or in 
the evening after the manner of the European, is the most 
substantial and important meal of the day. The table should 
be spread with white damask, and large white napkins to 
match. Colored napery is not considered appropriate for 
dinner. Dishes should be garnished, and placed upon the 
table as attractively as possible, and the board laid with the 
utmost care and attention to details. Every member of the 
household is expected to be prompt at this repast. In Eng- 
land no gentleman thinks of appearing in other than evening 
dress, and the ladies likewise. In America such ceremonious 
dressing is not generally adopted, but it is understood that, if 
any formality is observed, it must be at dinner. Certain it is 
that the English custom is to be commended for its civilizing 
and refining influence on the manners. If the master of the 



IN THE DIN1XG-R00M. 



449 



house has the time and inclination to array himself in broad- 
cloth and fine linen, why should he not do so? If he would 
assume this attire to sit down in the presence of other gentle- 
men and ladies, why should he not do so for the one he holds 
highest anions women, and the ladies and gentlemen of his 
own family? If he set such an example, wife, daughters or 
sons will be ashamed to pay less attention to their own toilettes, 
and all will be carefully dressed. No one, in his best clothes, 
is apt to be careless and absent-minded about his eating; 
therefore his manners will be correspondingly improved. 
Good manners are a help to good morals, and a whole sermon 
might be preached with the swallow-tail for a text : not in a 
Teufeldrockhian strain, but with good cheer. 

Longfellow, happening to be writing a note while arrayed 
in a dress-coat, with a rose in his buttonhole, says, referring 
to his dress : " Why should we not always do it when we 
write letters? We should, no doubt, be more courtly and 
polite, and perhaps say handsome things to each other. " 

If such a man could be so impressed with the influence of 
dress upon manners, must there not be something in the idea 
that is worthy of consideration by all? 

There are very many refined and truly elegant men who 
do not possess a dress-coat, and many who do, who could not 
be induced to wear one every evening. Still, some change 
might easily be made in the freshening of the tie or linen, or 
the donning of a coat that had not been through the heat and 
dust of the day; and the ladies of the house can as well dress 
for the evening before dinner as after. 

Respectful behavior toward the members of one's own fam- 
ily lies at the very groundwork of good breeding. There is 
much to think of in Emerson's remark: " Let us not be too 
much acquainted," and again: "We should meet each morn- 
29 



450 



YOU AND I. 



ing, as from foreign countries, and, spending the day together, 
should depart at night as into foreign countries."' 

If we wear our good manners every day, they will set easily 
on us. Otherwise they may be something like poor Joe 
Gargary's Sunday coat, a dreadful source of anxiety to the 
wearer. 

Serving Dinner. — At some family dinners the meal is all 
placed upon the table before sitting down. But where the 
mistress has the service of a competent servant, she generally 
prefers to strike a small call-bell which stands before her 
plate, and have the courses brought on as they are required. 
When there is more than one servant, and one remains in the 
dining-room, or in the pantry, to wait on the table, the bell is, 
of course, not required. Soup is first served, after which the 
.servant removes the plates, and brings in fish. If there is no 
fish, the roast and vegetables come next. When this course 
is finished, the platter, plates, vegetable dishes, and side 
dishes are removed from the table, the servant neatly and 
dexterously brushing away crumbs from each place with a 
napkin or small brush. Pastry or pudding is next brought on. 
If fruit, or nuts and confectionery are served, these come last, 
and with them the finger-bowl, placed on a doyly in the 
desert plate. This small ornamental bit of linen is usually 
only to be looked at, and is placed under the bowl as it is 
lifted from the plate. We remember distinctly the dire morti- 
fication of two ladies, who at a dinner, thinking these small 
napkins were for use, as one naturally might, committed the 
enormity of drying their fingers upon them, before observing 
that the other guests used only the large ones. 

The Tea Table. — When dinner is served during the middle 
of the day, the last meal is called tea, and is necessarily light 
and simple. Cold meats, thin slices of bread, preserves or 



IN THE DINING-ROOM. 



451 



stewed fruits, creams, custards, and fancy cakes, or any other 
cold dish that is fancied with hot tea, is the usual bill of fare. 
Colored table-cloth and napkins are generally used, the latter 
of a smaller size than those used for dinner. 

Carving. — The master of house is expected to carve at 
family dinners. He should be provided with a sharp knife 
and strong fork, and should sit, not stand, while performing 
this service. 

Serving. — The one who carves indicates to whom the plate 
is to be sent. When a person is handed a plate, he should 
keep it, not pass it on. Also, when one is to help himself from 
a dish, he should do so before offering it to his neighbor. The 
servant should hand everything at the left, except wine and 
water, which should be served at the right. 

The Napkin. — The napkin should not be starched. Why 
it should ever have been starched, nobody knows, except it 
may have been for the purpose of folding it into all sorts of 
fantastic shapes in hotels and restaurants, a method devised 
for decorating the table, but not in use in private houses. Cer- 
tain it is, that attempting to put to the lips one of these paste- 
board affairs, is an operation to be avoided by all but the most 
hardened hotel boarder. 

Some beautiful napkins made in Berlin, Paris, London, and 
New York, by the Decorative Art Society, having the drawn 
thread, lace effects, and wrought monograms or crests, are 
very dainty things in napery, but the thick, fine, white damask 
is the most thoroughly reliable ; it washes well, will never go 
out of fashion, and is always really elegant. 

Daintily wrought and ornamental napkins have been among 
the luxuries of the wealthy since the days when Queen Elizabeth 
sent to Flanders for the lace with which hers were to be edged. 



452 



YOU AND I. 



Some families provide for the children a coarse grade of 
damask, as those used by the little folk are more apt to 
become stained, and to need more vigorous rubbing in the 
wash than the others. 

Napkins should be well washed, ironed and aired, before 
being placed on the table. A damp napkin, or one smelling 
of soap, is an abomination. 

Japanese paper napkins are very convenient for lunch bas- 
kets or picnics. 

It is not economy to purchase colored cloths or napkins for 
the use of children, as they will not bear washing as well as 
the white. 

The Use of the Napkin. — The napkin should not be fast- 
ened at the neck, but laid conveniently across the lap, and 
one corner should be lifted to wipe the mouth. Men who 
wear a moustache are obliged to manipulate a napkin in a 
vigorous manner, which would be unpardonable in a lady. It 
is not customary, when you have finished a meal, to fold your 
napkin, especially when at a public table or in a private house,, 
when you are to take only one meal, still, if at the latter, and 
all others at the table fold their napkins, you may, if you wish, 
do likewise, but you will not be wrong if you never fold your 
napkin, but leave it beside your plate. 

The Knife. — Food should not be carried to the mouth with 
the knife. We are aware that this trite remark has been 
found in about every book on manners since the first one was 
published, but as we yet, in public places, see people perform- 
ing this rather dangerous operation with the utmost unconcern, 
we feel constrained to still lift up our voice in protest. 

The crusade against the knife should not be pushed, as it is 
by some, where it is really necessary. Pie and pastry are often 
served with only a fork, and it is sometimes really painful to see 



IN THE DINING-ROOM. 



453 



the fruitless efforts made with a fork to separate the compound 
into suitable morsels. It would look much more graceful, and 
be altogether more conducive to peace of mind, if they were 
first cut with a knife, and then conveyed to the mouth with 
a fork. The knife as well as the fork must be used with 
some kinds of fish, with lettuce, and with pine-apple, beside 
the meats, with which it is indispensable. 

The Fork. — The overloading of the fork, such as one is 
likely to see in railway stations, not only looks decidedly awk- 
ward while on its way to the mouth, but results in more 
unpleasantness after it gets there. Children should be taught 
to take only as much on a fork as they can conveniently and 
gracefully manage. The fork in the right hand should be 
used for eating salads, soft cheese, pastry and all made dishes. 

When through with the knife and fork, they should be 
placed neatly side by side across the plate. 

The Spoon. — It is scarcely necessary to tell any one what 
he must eat with a spoon, as the nature of the dish will gen- 
erally indicate the necessity of this implement. Still, it occa- 
sionally becomes fashionable to use the spoon where it has not 
hefore been used, as is now the case in eating oranges and 
melons. With the desert coffee-cups, very small spoons are 
used. But the spoon which is apt to get one into the most 
trouble is the soup spoon. There has been much debate 
as to whether soup should be taken from the side or the point 
of the spoon, but we believe the decision is now in favor of the 
former mode, as it requires less movement and angularity of 
the arm. Of course, the spoon should not be full, and no 
noise should be made in taking the soup. 

Children should be taught not to put any sort of a spoon 
too far into their mouths, or to retain it so long as to appear 
to be cutting their teeth on it. 



454 



YOU AND I. 



Eating Fruits. — In many places in Europe, berries and 
small fruits are served on the stem, and are dipped into sugar 
as they are eaten. But to the American, used to heaping 
saucers of berries and cream, this is a decidedly unsatisfactory 
method of serving. We distinctly remember the feelings with 
which we daintily lifted a beautiful spray of large, red rasp- 
berries from the plate as it was passed, and, after having been 
obliged to content ourselves with just twelve berries, observed, 
w^ith a sort of mild wonder, the equanimity with which the 
other guests submitted to the same indignity. 

Pears and apples should be peeled and quartered with a 
silver knife, and then taken up with the fingers. 

Oranges may be peeled and separated, or a small portion of 
the peel removed, and eaten with a spoon from the rind. 

The skins and seeds of grapes should be conveyed by the 
hand to the plate, as should also the pits of all small fruits. 

In stewed or preserved fruits, the stones or seeds should be 
removed by the teaspoon and placed on the plate. In pies 
or pastries they can be placed on the fork, and conveyed to 
the plate. 

Eggs. — Eggs boiled in the shell should be eaten from the 
shell, placed in an egg-cup, if one is at hand. 

Bread. — Bread should be broken, not cut, and each portion 
spread as required. Bread can be laid upon the table-cloth, 
but no other article of food should be. 

The last Piece. — It is perfectly proper to take the last 
piece, if you want it. 

The Soup Plate. — The soup plate should not be served 
full. A half ladleful is the usual amount. Strict etiquette 
demands that bread or crackers should be eaten with the 
soup, not crumbed into the liquid. 



IN THE DINING-ROOM. 



455 



The Cup and Saucer. — The cup, when not in your hand, 
must remain in the saucer. On no account must it be set 
dripping upon the table-cloth, or the contents poured into the 
saucer. The only time when this is pardonable, is when there 
is just ten minutes for refreshments, and the coffee or tea is 
scalding hot. 

Children at the Table. — The parent who does not teach 
children to behave properly at the table is either densely 
ignorant or positively cruel. It is astonishing how much dis- 
comfort and actual misery one small child can cause a whole 
tableful of grown people, and how much solid mortification 
this same small child, if not restrained, may be laying up for 
his own future years. When the baby is old enough to be 
brought to the table, he is old enough to have his training 
begin. Mrs. Beecher, who has written many sensible things 
on this subject, says: 

" We believe that a child should be brought to the table 
with the family just as soon as it can sit in a high chair, and 
receive its first lessons from the mother and not from the 
nurse. The child will soon learn to be quiet and happy, and 
to wait quietly till the mother has helped the older ones, after 
which, it will very quickly learn, its wants will receive instant 
care. But if the child begin to call for attention the instant 
it is seated, and, if delayed, emphasize its demands by ener- 
getic screams and passionate blows on the table, none need 
expect to restrain such samples of temper and insubordination, 
even in "the baby," by indulgence or coaxing. Remove it at 
once from the table for a short season of admonition, which 
will soon prove salutary and efficacious, and the little one 
soon returns to the table serene and happy. Of course, such 
an interruption may disturb for a few moments the pleasures 
of those at the table, but if the discipline or lesson, whatever 



456 



YOU AND I. 



its nature may be, be judiciously administered, it will not need 
to be repeated many times, and the discomfort of the family 
for those few minutes will be a small price to pay for the 
comfort and honor of having the children all trained to be 
bright examples of good table manners. When guests are at 
the table, it will not be courteous to bring very young children 
to the table until they are so far under control as to risk no 
danger of disturbance from them, yet it is not wise to tax a 
child's patience too far unless absolutely necessary. But the 




earlier very young children can sit at the table with parents, 
brothers and sisters, if carefully trained, the greater security 
for the parents that they will grow up polite, helpful and 
respectful. 

As soon as a child can speak, it can easily be taught to 
make known its wishes quietly, without crying or impatience, 
and can also learn that it is the only way by which it can 



IN THE DINING-ROOM. 



457 



obtain the desired service. It is surprising how soon the little 
ones will understand this method of calling attention to their 
faults, and how readily it becomes a second nature, as easy 
and natural as breathing. Children are not quite angels — and 
some are less so than others; these may require a longer pro- 
cess to arrive at the same conclusion, but patience will 
accomplish it. Parents are cruel who do not give their chil- 
dren such lessons, and enforce them until the child is seldom 
tempted to ask in a less quiet way. But what can be more 
disagreeable than children utterly unrestrained and selfish at 
the table; not the young children merely, but those who have 
outgrown childhood and are just emerging into maturity. 
Indulged and unrestrained in their earlier years, they become 
impatient and arrogant to their parents as well as to those 
they call inferiors. 4 Hand me the salt,' without naming any 
one. 'Pass the bread."' Perhaps the demand is a little soft- 
ened: 6 Give me the butter, please.' But the please is too 
long delayed to be rated as anything but another thought. 
Such habits unrestrained in youth are intolerable when young 
ladies and gentlemen do not hesitate to exhibit them. Loud 
talking at the table reveals great ill-breeding and lack of del- 
icacy, interrupts conversation, and greatly annoys those seated 
near. But of all specimens of ill-breeding in children none is 
more unpardonable than whispering at the table. Nothing so 
quickly destroys all respect for the offender, or makes a sensi- 
tive person so uncomfortable, as to see two persons at the 
table lean close to each other, shield their lips with the hand 
or napkin and whisper very earnestly, emphasizing their talk 
with hearty laughing and sly glances over the table. Such 
conduct is exceedingly embarrassing to all others, and indica- 
tive of exceeding ill manners in those who thus trespass." 

Healthy children, who exercise much in the open air, are 
generally blest with good appetites, and are very apt to eat too 



458 



YOU AND 2. 



fast. This is not only unhealthful, but leads to many habits 
disagreeable to others, such as cramming the mouth full to 
repletion, smacking the lips, making a noise like a whole 
menagerie at feeding time, and causing others to constantly fear 
a case of strangling. Neither should children be allowed to 
carry food to the mouth while leaning back in the chair, handle 
the hair, pick the teeth, tilt or rock the chair, lean elbows on the 
table, wipe their fingers on the table-cloth, nor leave the plate 
in an untidy condition, with the knife in one place and the 
fork in another. The knife and fork should be laid side by 
side across the plate, with the handles toward the right. 

We have been at tables where children were allowed to 
interrupt their elders, talk while they were talking, and end by 
monopolizing the entire conversation. We by no means 
believe in a continual observance of the old, Puritanical rule 
that " children should be seen, not heard," but we do believe 
in the rule working both ways, and occasionally allowing the 
older portion of the household to be heard as well as seen. A 
certain consideration for the rights of others, if not learned 
when young, must be learned when old, and it is kindness to 
any child to save him the trouble of taking up the task 
late in life. 

Children should not be allowed to jump up noisily from the 
table, and rush from the room whenever it may suit their 
inclinations. They should be taught to sit quietly until all 
have finished the meal. If school, or any other reason, obliges 
them to leave before the others, they should politely ask to 
be excused, and, rising quietly, go from the room in such a 
manner that any conversation which may be going on will not 
necessarily come to a stand-still, and every one draw a sigh of 
relief when they are well out of hearing. Parents, from their 
continual contact with, and love and tenderness for their chil- 
dren, may not notice, or be disturbed by those things, but it is. 



IN THE DINING-ROOM. 



459 



not natural that anyone else should feel as they do; and, if they 
wish those who are dear to them to be loved, or even tolerated 
by people, and not shunned as a pestilence, it is their first and 
most sacred duty to teach them to respect the rights of others* 
It may require continual vigilance, but it is well worth the price. 

Before a child can be taught to understand the immorality 
or wickedness of falsehood, he can be taught not to scream for 
his food, and as soon as he can be broken of one bad habit, it 
is time to begin his education. 

Some General Observations. — Never lay a soiled knife or 
fork on the table-cloth, instead of on the plate. 

Never, except at a hotel or boarding-house, leave the table 
before the others, without asking to be excused. 

Never sit so far away from the table as to be awkward, nor 
so near to it that you lose the use of your arms. 

Never use your own knife, fork or spoon to put into a dish 
from which others must be helped. 

Never eat fast, smacking the lips and making unpleasant 
sounds while chewing. 

Never come to the table in your shirt-sleeves, or with, 
untidy nails or hair. 

Never pare an apple, pear or peach for another at the table, 
without holding it with a fork. 

Never wear gloves at the table, unless the hands, for some 
special reason, are unfit to be seen. 

Never pour sauce or gravy upon meat or vegetables, but 
allow each one to help himself, or else place on the side of 
the plate. 

Never draw the attention of others at the table, if obliged 
to remove any objectionable substance from the food. Place 
it quietly under the edge of the plate. 

Never pass on to another, unless requested to do so, a dish. 



YOU AND I. 



which is handed to you, as it may have been especially intended 
for you. 

Never put the feet so far under the table as to interfere 
with your neighbors. 

Never think it necessary to explain why certain foods do 
not agree with you. 

Never introduce a disagreeable topic, or one which may 
unpleasantly affect the appetite of even the most squeamish. 

Never lay potato skins or other refuse on the table-cloth. 
Use for this purpose the edge of the plate, or an extra dish, 
and keep the cloth as clean as possible. 

Never play with articles on the table when not eating. Let 
hands rest quietly in the lap. 

Never draw attention to yourself by calling loudly to a 
waiter. If possible, wait until you can catch his eye, and then 
ask for what you want in a low tone. 

Never take up one piece and lay it down for another; nor 
hesitate in making a choice. 

Never leave the knife and fork on the plate when passing 
it. Either hold them in the hand, or lay them down with the 
ends resting upon a piece of bread or individual butter plate. 

Never cut or bite bread, but break it as you need it. 

Never wipe your fingers on the table-cloth. If no napkin 
is provided, use your handkerchief. 

Never fill a dish with sauce or any liquid so full that it is 
easily spilled. 

Never yawn nor stretch at the table. 

Never carry fruits or confectionery away from the table. 

Never reach over another person's plate. 

Never open your mouth while chewing. 

Never speak with the mouth full. 

Never pick the teeth at the table. 

Never whisper at the table. 



NE ART OF CONVERSATION. 



i , ^SvjSiit Ja ^ not ma ^ e talk," says Emerson. 
■iHK^W^TOl" Would that we need not, but 

IRIl nil 1 i ^I fBBi jli jmr 

\ i'w^-ymr a ^ as ' sometimes we are sore 

^BSB'l'' 1 ^^^^^ pressed by necessity. Who of us ever 
^^^SK^K-t- " makes talk, 11 except in a spirit of self-de- 
^' ~ ■ " nial. We do it to bridge over an awk- 

ward silence, to put some one else at ease. It is the 
most thankless of tasks, for no one after all, if the 
remark be shallow, abates one jot of his condemnation for the 
sake of the self-sacrifice involved. 

It may be that certain self-centred, divinely balanced souls 
intuitively grasp the situation, and have born in upon them, at 
a glance, the mental status of the stranger with whom they 
are thrown in contact, and thus say something to the point at 
the first encounter. But we of lesser calibre and moderately 
good hearts, when introduced at balls, dinners, receptions, and 
in public places, often feel the dire necessity of " making talk." 
Then let us not condemn at once the stranger who, on a first 
meeting, makes an unusually vapid remark. His nervousness, 
diffidence or kind-heartedness may be altogether to blame for it. 
Besides the kind of " making talk " which comes directly 
after an introduction may be likened to the rather aimless 
punching and poking of the stick used to stir up the animals. 

461 



462 



VOL' AND I. 



A thought may rise up and shake itself, and then the enter- 
tainment will begin. 

It would be a fine thing, indeed, if we did not have to 
kk make talk;" and perhaps some day the world will have 
grown so spiritualized that the personality of another will 
impress itself on one like the subtle shock from a miniature 
battery, and we shall have no need of the clumsy beginnings 
of social intercourse, which we now have. 

It is very probable the philosopher, when he said, " talk 
is chalk eggs," meant only to discourage its too frequent and 
unsparing use, and certainly all people who have any concep- 
tion of the value of time will heartily sanction his assertion. 

Some Convej'sation Only Talk.- — Much that gets the name 
of conversation is only talk. In fact we have been in some 
companies whole evenings, and half days, where anything like 
conversation never, for an instant, showed its head. We need 
scarcely say that we did not make extraordinary exertions to 
get there again. 

Dreary platitudes, shallow jests, endless banterings, gossip 
and personalities are not conversation. They not only debase 
the currency of intercourse, but make social offenders of those 
who manufacture or pass them. 

How can we, with the wonders of the universe above us 
.and beneath our feet, be content to chatter like magpies who 
have neither the inventive brain nor the immortal soul? 
We do not mean that humanity should not occasionally 
indulge in.- a little harmless gossip and good-natured jest and 
banter. The iron bound realities and practical needs of life 
are passing us on every side, and we must sometimes unbend 
and play with our words, just as a healthy animal occasion- 
ally plays with its heels. It is a necessity of nature and is 
good for us. 



THE ART OF CONVERSATIO 



463 



But words were not given us for a continual recreation; 
they were also meant to cheer, to uplift, to give comfort, to 
embody that almost infinite thing, human thought, and to 
move the world. Can we, with a clear conscience, continually 
put such noble instruments to ignoble uses ? Should we make 
the great reeds of the collossal organ bellow forth only bar- 
baric discords? Should we drive our mules always with strings 
of pearls? And is not the wealth of our beautiful language 
beyond any of these? Something like this must have been 
meant when we were told that we should have to give 
account for every idle word: not the idle words which are 
the necessities of certain times and moods, but the idle words 
which are the only stock in trade, and kill everything that is 
better and more profitable. 

" But," perhaps you will say, " can a person talk well if he 
has nothing to talk about? " Most certainly not, but can he 
not keep still, and learn to listen? 

" Oh, but some people don't know enough to be aware that 
their talk is not worth listening to. They are so well pleased 
with their own shallow vaporings that they never discover the 
difference between talk and conversation. 

Very well, then, with them the case is hopeless. Let them 
keep within the circle of their kind, and they shall be mutu- 
ally pleased and pleasing. 

After all, conversation is judged and enjoyed according to 
different grades of intellect and mental stand-points. Miss 
Gushy would no doubt call that conversation which r Emerson 
would call talk; and so on through all the different steps of 
the scale. But let us, if we can not reach Emersonian 
heights, take as exalted a view of it as we can, and look upon 
conversation, not as a mere trade in words, but as an expres- 
sion of the intercourse of souls. 



YOU AND I. 



Conversation as a Fine A rt. — To the man or woman with 
an original mind, quick wit, and much riches of expression, 
conversation comes naturally, as the gift of writing does 
to others. But there are many more who are obliged to cul- 
tivate it with much patience and industry. 

It may appear strange that anything whose chief charm is 
spontaneity, the sudden flash, as when the spark touches the 
tinder, can be acquired by any previous training or disci- 
pline. But the word has first to be burned to make the spark, 
and the tinder has to be prepared by a skillful hand. 

Probably no amount of preparation could produce wit or 
brilliancy that would approximate to the native article, but 
very many people are pleasing conversationalists who have 
neither of these. Observation is a fine ingredient of the 
accomplishments of an interesting talker. But suppose a 
person to be especially gifted with none of these things we 
have mentioned, he can still make himself interesting. How 
shall he begin? 

First, he must inform himself. He must have some know- 
ledge of standard literature, of history past and present, of 
men and things. He must know what he is going to say 
before he begins to say it. He must have the power of mar- 
shaling his facts quickly into line, so that he can put his hand 
on the one he wants in an instant. 

Says Lord Chesterfield in one of those wonderful letters to 
his son: " One must be extremely exact, clear and perspicuous 
in everything one says; otherwise, instead of entertaining or 
informing others, one only tires and puzzles them. The voice 
and manner of speaking, too, are not to be neglected; some 
people almost shut their mouths when they speak, and mutter 
so that they are not to be understood; some always 
speak as loud as if they were talking to deaf people, and 
others so low that one can not hear them. All these habits 



THE ART OF CONVERSATION. 



465 



are awkward and disagreeable, and are to be avoided by 
attention; they are the distinguishing marks of the ordinary 
people, who have had no care taken of their education. You 
cannot imagine how necessary it is to mind all these little 
things; for I have seen many people with great talents, ill 
received for want of having these talents too; and others well 
received, only from their little talents, and who had no great 
ones." 

Granted, then, that one is reasonably well informed, 
that he has a quick way of arranging his facts for use, that he 
can express himself grammatically and in a good tone of 
voice, and he is well equipped for a beginning. Now comes 
to the front, tact and judgment. He desires, above all 
things, to please. In order to do so he must think, as Southey 
says, of the " three things in speech that ought to be con- 
sidered before new things are spoken, — the manner, the place, 
and the time." 

The First Requirement. — " The first ingredient of conver- 
sation," writes Lee William Temple, u is truth, the next good 
sense, the third good humor, and the fourth wit.' 7 Doubtless 
he is right ; truth first, but not certain truths at certain times. 
Better evade the subject, decline to answer or remain quiet, 
than to wound some one's feelings by a brutal truth, unless 
he will be benefitted thereby. Lord Bacon says, u Dis- 
cretion of speech is more than eloquence; and to speak 
agreeable to him with whom we deal, is more than to speak 
in good words, or in good order. 1 '' 

Save us! we all cry out, from those people who find it nec- 
essary on all occasions to speak their minds. It is, in ninety- 
nine cases in a hundred, prompted, not by a missionary 
spirit and the leading of souls out of darkness into light, but 
by " envy, hartred and malice, and all uncharitableness." The 

30 



4:66 



YOU AND I. 



human being who delights in seeing another wither under his 
words, is of the same calibre as the savage who burns victims 
for his own delectation. 

Clearly then, conversation belongs not to barbarians; 
and the individual who indulges in cutting personalities will 
never shine socially. 

Tact teaches the popular man to adapt himself to all sorts 
and conditions of men. With the farmer, he is interested in 
crops; with the lawyer, in legal points; with the housewife, in 
the servant question; with the mother, about her children; 
with the diplomate, in statesmanship; and with the author, in 
his last new book. 

Listening. — But with all his acquisitions, let the conversation- 
alist get the art of listening, for, though he be as eloquent as 
Burke and as witty as Swift, if he gives no one else a chance 
to speak, he will be voted a bore. Colton, who wrote 
" Lacon " over sixty years ago, never said wiser words than 
these: " Were we as eloquent as angels, yet should we please 
some men, some women, and some children much more by 
listening than by talking." 

If you cannot listen, if you must be thinking of what you 
are going to say just as soon as the one who is talking stops, 
try and cultivate at least the appearance of listening. Don't 
allow your eyes to wander off in various directions, don't stare 
impassively at the speaker as if he were a post, or assume an 
attitude of resignation, as if you were trying to bear the 
infliction patiently. Any one of these things is enough to 
daze and scatter the wits of the best talker who ever lived. 

It is not necessary to look steadily in the eye of the speaker. 
This course sometimes disconcerts him quite as much as per- 
sistently looking away. But give him often the benefit of the 
sympathetic meeting of eye to eye, an intelligent, appreciative 



THE ART OF CONVERSATION. 



467 



look or smile, and put as the occasion offers, a word of 
approval or dissent, to show that you are following his mean- 
ing. 

Some people of quick, responsive intellects, are so stimu- 
lated by a gpod converser, into a sudden rush of ideas of their 
own, that they cannot wait for the other to finish, but inter- 
rupt continually. This is almost as bad as the first kind of 
inattention, for it shows clearly that you only catch fragments 
of what your companion is saying, or, in other words, you 
snatch a spark from his fireworks, and run away to light a 
bonfire of your own. 

The most delightful talker is he who, having shown an unaf- 
fected interest and pleasure in your thought, flames up 
brightly, when you pause, with the fire he has kindled at your 
own. Nothing can be more charming than this bright, quick, 
sympathetic exchange of ideas and impressions. Such con- 
versation has a stimulating, vivifying influence on one^s intel- 
lect that is not to be compassed in any other way. Many a 
person has wondered at the possibilities within himself, when 
the individual of tact has magically charmed them forth. 
This latter accomplishment belongs more generally to 
women than to men. It is they who, having the tact of draw- 
ing forth the best, and listening well, have made most of the 
brilliant conversers of the last two centuries. Mme. Recamier 
was not herself a brilliant talker, but all the good convers- 
ers who thronged her salon were brilliant in her presence. 
She possessed the gift or accomplishment of listening well. 

Dogmatism. — Dogmatism kills conversation. The moment 
any one mounts the tripod and speaks as if by divine author- 
ity, there is nothing to do but be mute before him, unless, 
indeed, you wish to figuratively make the earth tremble by 
rising up before the oracle, in opposition. 



468 



YOU AND I. 



It is most astonishing how some people of very good sense 
and not more than the usual amount of conceit, fairly gag and 
bind you every time they administer an idea of their own. 
Their manner seems to say, " Don't you dare to do anything 
but swallow my words; you know they are good for you." 
Others speak with a lofty condescension which has, mixed with 
it, a sort of tolerating pity for any difference of opinion which 
you may advance. With such people there can be nothing 
like conversation. One may listen to lectures or monologues 
from them, but one must never venture to speak his own 
thought or impression. There may be appreciation and 
sympathy in the dogmatic individual, but his manner con- 
veys such an opposite impression that he never gets credit 
for these qualities. Hence there can be no social interchange, 
and without reciprocity there can be no real converse. 

William Penn, in his advice to his children, has said some 
things that may well be pardoned by those inclined to be dog- 
matic: " Be humble and gentle in your conversation, of few 
words, I charge you, but always pertinent when you speak, 
hearing out before you attempt to answer, and then speaking 
as though you would persuade, not impose. 

Talking too Much. — Magnificent talker as was Coleridge, 
and bewitched and dazzled as nearly every one was with his 
brilliancy, one must needs sympathize a little with Theodore 
Hook who, having listened to a three hours' discourse from 
him, suggested bv having seen two soldiers by the roadside, 
exclaimed at the close: " Thank Heaven! you did not see a 
regiment, Coleridge, for in that case you would never have 
stopped/ 1 

Sir Walter Scott also declared, on returning from a dinner 
party at which he had been obliged to listen to a long 
harangue from Coleridge: "Zounds! I was never so be- 
thumped with words." 



THE ART OF CONVERSATION. 



469 



Mr. Mathews writes that " even those who bowed to this 
'Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table 1 felt, after they had listened 
to a soliloquy of five hours 7 duration, that they were pumped 
full, and cried ' Hold, enough! ' " 

Henrv Crabbe Robinson, who seems to have turned out to 
be considerable of a Boswell to his contemporaries, was also 
much more given to talking than to listening, and it is related 
that Rogers once said at a breakfast party, " Oh, if there is 
any one here who wants to say anything, he would better say 
it at once, for Crabbe Robinson is coming. " 

Training Children in the Art. — The child should be 
encouraged to relate such incidents as may have attracted his 
attention, and to give voice to his own impressions and ideas. 
When he has gained sufficient confidence to do this, he should 
be trained in the right use of words and phrases. He 
should not be allowed to express himself loosely or improp- 
erly. He should be taught to observe closely, and be accu- 
rate in his relation of an}* fact or occurrence. Memory, 
accuracy and observation can be cultivated, and if one has 
begun these habits early, he will find them of inestimable 
advantage every day of his life. 

Cultivating the Memory. — Memory is an extremely impor- 
ant aid to conversation. Some persons of exceedingly poor 
memories have systematically gone to work to remedy the 
defect, and have succeeded admirably. The methods put in 
practice can be adopted by children or grown people. 
When one attends a sermon or lecture, an excellent thing to 
do is to relate or write out all that can be recalled of what 
has been said. The same plan may be carried out with a 
book or newspaper article. Try, if you cannot give particu- 
lars, to set forth the main facts in a concise and orderly 
manner. 



470 



YOU AND I. 



If you find it difficult to remember names, try and associate 
those you wish to remember with some object or incident that 
you cannot forget. Suppose the person's name to be Wells, 
you say to yourself : " I must think of oil wells, or a kero- 
sene lamp; and every time I try to recall that man's name I 
shall remember one of these things and the resolve I made at 
the time." 

Henry Clay, who determined to make his memory serve 
him, adopted the practice of writing in a book the names of 
all the people he had met during the day, and repeating over 
the list the next morning. The success which he achieved in 
this experiment was an important factor of his popularity as a 
politician. 

A gentleman who wished to train his son in habits of obser- 
vation as well as memory, frequently took him to walk on a 
business street and, after returning home, required of him an 
account of the different articles displayed in the shop windows.. 
When the list was full and accurate, the boy was rewarded, 
but when it fell below the standard, he received nothing. 
Both father and son entered into the scheme with zest and no- 
little amusement, and both felt well repaid by the results. 

Relating Particulars. — Because one has trained oneself 
in remembering minute facts is no reason why every particu- 
lar should be brought in, in relating a story or incident. 
Some people will express themselves in good language and tell 
a thing accurately and smoothly, but at the same time draw 
the recital out to such a length, with a multitude of uninter- 
esting details, that they bore us beyond expression. It is 
very seldom that we care to hear all that there is to be said 
about anything. If these things interest the narrator he ought 
always to ask himself if they are likely to interest his listener. 
No one likes to get the name of being "long winded." But 



THE ART OF CONVERSATION. 



471 



let one of this sort literally or figuratively button-hole an indi- 
vidual whose time is not only money, but a solemn responsi- 
bility which he can not afford to fritter away, and he must 
expect to be avoided like a pestilence. We, for one, most 
fervently pray Heaven to save us from these people who spend 
an hour telling us nothing. The mental and moral losses 
which we suffer during these visitations would in time actu- 
ally bankrupt us. 

Compliments. — Compliments, when delicately expressed, 
are only an honest appreciation of certain merits or gifts, and 
are always admissible in polite conversation, if they are spar- 
ingly used and given with an air of sincerity. They are in 
better taste when addressed to an equal or inferior, as other- 
wise they may be suspected of a flavor of toadyism. 

Flattery. — Flattery, which means insincere praise, is debas- 
ing to the giver, and insulting to the recipient. The inferior 
is sure to ascribe patronizing motives to it, and the superior 
to call it servility. Flies may be caught by sugar, but sensi- 
ble men and women are not. It is best to be an individual of 
exceedingly few words, when it comes to flattery. 

Some Things to Think About. — Slander is not only 
immoral but exceedingly ill-bred. 
Slang is tabooed in good society. 

When you wish to address a person with a title, always add 
the name. For instance do not say, " Professor, is not that 
so? " but, " Professor , is not that so? " 

The reverse of this rule is true in foreign countries; and it 
is quite proper to address a titled lady or gentleman in France 
as Madame, Madamoiselle, Monsieur. 

Foreigners who come to this country, when addressed in 
English, should always be given their appropriate titles. 



472 



YOU AND I. 



It is considered better form, when speaking to a person with 
whom you are not intimate, to refer to his or her relatives by 
their full names, rather than speak of them as " your son, 17 
" your sister," etc. For instance if you were speaking to Mr. 
White, you would say: "I saw Miss White a few minutes 
ago, 1 '' rather than, " I saw your daughter a few minutes ago," 
or, " I met Mrs. Wilson last evening," rather than, " I met 
your sister last evening." 

Unless very well acquainted, never speak of people by their 
Christian names. 

Never call any one by his or her Christian name unless you 
have asked the privilege, or been requested to do so. 

Ladies should never designate their gentleman friends as 
" Smith," " Brown," or "Jones, 11 leaving off the proper prefix. 
It gives a " fast " flavor which is not desirable. 

Don't make a show of learning, either by lugging in 
unusual topics, or sentences from foreign languages. 

Give things their proper names. It is not modest, but 
decidedly the contrary to say " limb " for " leg," and " gentle- 
man " and " lady " bird, for the cock and the hen. 

A little good-natured satire gives spice to conversation, but 
that which cuts is ill-bred, and nearly always inexcusable. 

Never encourage in yourself a tendency to inquisitiveness. 
If your friend wishes to tell you certain things, he will do so 
of his own accord. You should not oblige him to give his 
confidence unwillingly, or put him to the awkwardness of 
refusing. 

Religion and politics should never be introduced in a mixed 
company. 

No subject upon which people may be expected to have a 
vital interest and strong convictions, should be started for the 
sake of an argument, except in the appropriate time and place. 
Some people much enjoy a controversy, and can indulge in it 



THE ART OF CONFER SA TION. 



473 



with profit to themselves and others. With such, it is per- 
fectly proper, and a means of enlightenment. 
Do not talk shop. 

Never describe revolting scenes or incidents. 
Avoid any topic which may be disagreeable or painful to 
another. 

The Conversation of the Future. — In looking back over 
the times of Dr. Johnson — that conversational king — and the 
bright galaxy of talkers contemporary with him; in hearing 
the echo of the voices of Burke, Garrick, Sheridan, Moore, 
Lamb, Mackintosh, Macauley, and De Quincey, and delight- 
edly reading the flashes of wit, humor, pathos and learning 
that were the common currency at the dinner table, and those 
nights at the " Mermaid, " do we not rather regretfully ask 
if the days of conversation are no more, and if they 
are never to be anything other than a memory? But 
just as the style of literature changes, so does that of 
conversation. In these times of the telegraph, telephone, and 
daily newspapers we have come to devour much, and to want 
it highly condensed. One who can snatch up a newspaper 
and find in a few minutes what is going on all over the world, 
and hear the views of fifty different men on different topics in 
a half an hour, is not willing to listen to one man, on one 
theme, for twice that length of time. Hence, if Coleridge 
should appear in the flesh and wish to talk to such a man, he 
would probably be rudely repulsed. There may be among 
us a Sir James Mackintosh, of whom Sidney Smith said "his 
conversation was more brilliant and instructive than that of 
any human being I ever had the good fortune to be acquaint- 
ed with. His memory (vast and prodigious as it was) he so 
managed as to make it a source of pleasure and instruction, 
rather than the dreadful engine of colloquial oppression into 



474 



YOU AND I. 



which it is some times erected. He remembered words,, 
thoughts, dates, and everything that was wanted. His lan- 
guage was beautiful, and might have gone from the fireside 
to the press." There may be also Currans, Foxes and Col- 
eridges in conversational gifts, but if they have no listeners 
they will not speak. This talent, more than any other,, 
requires encouragement and a good soil. Assuredly there 
are few good listeners. The times are bad for this most beau- 
tiful and inspiring of the arts. 

We cannot tell what the outlook will be. Perhaps the con- 
versation of the future will be in a much condensed, brilliant, 
epigrammatic style, or it may again go back to the smooth, 
carefully rounded periods and Corinthian proportions of the- 
old time, just as we are now hearing nothing but classical 
music ; but this last is rather doubtful, as, notwithstanding the 
fact that classical music is fashionable, not one-fourth of the 
people like it, and of those who pretend to, one-half do not 
understand it. Our thoughts must find some clear expression, 
and whatever may be the conversation of the future, we are 
sure that, as the hurry and force of this money-getting age 
takes on more refinement, it must be better rather than worse 
than that of the present time. While men and women think 
and feel, it cannot become wholly a lost art, and the steady 
progress in the mental condition of women alone seems to 
indicate the coming of new life from that direction. Many 
things have been for a century in a transitional state. Even 
Swift saw the beginning of the decline, when he said: " Since 
the ladies have been left out of all meetings except parties of 
play, our conversation hath degenerated." The ladies are 
beginning not to be " left out." Let them help bring in regen- 
eration and reform. 



CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES FOR 
WEDDINGS. 



'Hail, wedded love, mysterious law!" 

— Milton. 



'O happy state ! when souls each other draw " 

— Pope. 




O important a step as. 
marriage must neces- 
sarily be hedged 
about with some 
formality. Even if it 
be the most simple and quiet of 
weddings, certain conventionalities 
must be observed. That all 
womankind (and all mankind, as well,) who contemplate mar- 
riage wish to be informed as to what is strict etiquette in all 
the forms pertaining thereto, is evinced by the numerous 
queries which flood the colums of " Harper's Bazaar " and 
other fashionable journals. " Who shall pay for the cards?" 1 
"What are the duties of the 'best man'?" "Who orders the 
carriages? 1 ' "What part of the brides-maids 1 outfit is the 
bride expected to furnish ?" These are a few of the questions 
which appear from time to time, and which we shall, with 
others, endeavor to answer in this chapter. 

The Betrothal. — There need be no formal announcement 
of a betrothal, although it is customary, in some social circles, 

475 



476 CUSTOMS AXD COSTUMES FOR WEDDINGS. 

to do so. Usually, the affair is made known through the 
agency of friends, or a dinner party is given by the parents of 
the lady or gentleman, and, just before rising from the table, 




"IN THAT NEW WORLD WHICH IS THE OLD. 1 ' 



the host makes mention of the pleasant intelligence, when a 
general expression of good feeling and congratulations is given. 
When the engagement becomes generally known, friends 



YOU AND I. 



477 



who are in the habit of entertaining, give dancing parties, 
dinners, or theatre parties to the engaged couple. 

When the lady is invited by the gentleman's parents, the 
family of the former should always be included. 

Last Calls. — -Just before, or at the time of the distribution/ 
of the wedding invitations, the expectant bride leaves her 
cards at the residences of her friends. These are her usual 
visiting cards, without the addition of P. P. C, which has, 
heretofore, been considered necessary. They should be left 
in person, though the lady does not enter, except it be to visit 
an invalid or aged person. 

Just Before the Wedding. — After the last calls, it is de 
rigueur for the prospective bride not to be seen in public; 
neither should she see the groom on the wedding-day until 
they meet at the altar. 

The Ceremonious Wedding. — There are as many different 
ways of celebrating a wedding as there are individual tastes 
in the matter; but where people have a large circle of friends 
and acquaintances, entertain much, and live fashionably and 
elegantly, it is general!)' expected that the marriage of one o£ 
the family will be in keeping with the usual manner of living. 
There is, of course, no real obligation in the matter, and the 
happy pair may be married quietly, in their traveling dresses^ 
with no one but the family present, if they prefer to do so. 
Especially is this the custom after a recent affliction, or death 
of a relative, when elaborate festivities would be in bad taste. 

When a reception is to follow the ceremony at the house or 
church, invitations are sent out at least ten days before the 
time, and to those living at a distance much sooner, so that 
any who wish to attend may make preparations for the 
journey. 



478 



CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES FOR WEDDINGS. 



No answer is required to wedding invitations, but friends 
out of the city, who cannot be present, generally send some 
word of congratulation to the groom, if the invitation be from 
him, and of kind wishes to the bride, if from her. Presents 
are no longer sent, except from relatives or very dear friends. 

Form of Invitation. — The invitation is given in the name 
of the bride's father and mother or, if only one parent be liv- 
ing, in the name of the survivor. If the bride be a niece, 
grand-daughter, ward, or of any other relationship to the per- 
son issuing the invitations, the word signifying such relation- 
ship should be substituted for the term " daughter." 

The present fashion is to have finely engraved, in script, 
upon note-paper of the best quality and of a size to fold once 
to fit the envelope, this form: 

Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Talbot 

request your presence 
at the marriage of their daughter y 

Blanche, 
to 

Thomas G. Alio rave, 
on Wednesday evening, October teiith, 
at eight o'clock. 
St. Peter's Church, 
Philadelphia. 

Such an invitation is intended only for the church. Friends 
who are invited to the reception find enclosed with this invita- 
tion the following: 



YOU AND I. 



479 



Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Talbot, 
A t Ho m e, 

Wednesday evening, October tenth, 
from half past eight until eleven o'clock. 

48 WEST FIELD STREET. 

Or simply a small card bearing the words: 

Reception at 48 West Field Street, at half past eight. 

When, from the extremely fashionable or prominent posi- 
tion of the bride or groom, a crowd may be expected at the 
church, that will prevent the convenient entrance of invited 
guests, long, narrow cards of admission are also enclosed with 
the invitation, engraved in the same style as the other: 

St. Peter's Church. 
Ceremony at eight o'clock. 

Many people dislike to issue an admission card, but in some 
instances it is absolutely necessary. 

Duties of the Ushers. — Several young gentlemen, usually 
about four in number, are chosen from the friends of the bride 
or groom, to act as ushers. One of these is appointed head 
usher, or master of ceremonies, and upon him devolves the 
responsibility of attending to certain necessary details. He 
must be early at the church, and, being provided with a list 
or number of the guests, determine, as near as possible, the 
space they will occupy, stretching the ribbon or arch of 
flowers as a boundary line. It is always better to give too 
much, rather than too little room, as no lady in full dress likes 
to be crowded. He next ascertains that the organist is pro- 
vided with the musical programme ; that the kneeling stool at 
the altar is in its proper place and covered with white cloth, 



480 CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES FOR WEDDINGS. 



so as not to sully the spotless robes of the bride. The ushers^ 
being all now in position just inside the entrance, in the centre 
aisle, are now in readiness to escort ladies to their seats. 
They offer the right arm, and inquire if the guest is a friend 
of the bride or the groom. If of the latter, she is placed on 
the right side of the main aisle, going toward the altar; if a 
friend of the bride, on the left. Gentlemen accompanying 
lady guests, follow them to the seat. Ushers should place the 
relatives and most intimate friends of the bridal party nearest 
the altar. 

Two of the ushers, as soon as the ceremony is over, hurry 
to the residence where the reception is to be held, in order to 
be ready to receive the newly wedded pair and their guests. 

When the bride and groom are in position to receive, the 
ushers conduct guests to them, and introduce those who may 
not be acquainted, having previously asked the name if it is 
not known to them. They next introduce the guest to the 
parents. As the two families thus brought together may not 
be acquainted with each other's friends, and may live in places 
long distances apart, this is a very necessary formality. In 
all such instances, the gentleman escort follows the lady with 
the usher, and is introduced after she is. 

An usher attends each lady who is without an escort, to the 
supper-room, and sees that she is properly served. 

When the company is small, and the guests sit at table, at 
a wedding breakfast or supper, each lady is provided with an 
escort, as at a ceremonious dinner. 

Dress of the Ushers. — At a morning wedding, the ushers 
wear dark blue, or black frock-coats, light trousers, light neck- 
ties, and gloves of light neutral tint; at an evening wedding, 
full evening dress, white neckties, and delicately-tinted gloves. 
Button-hole bouquets are worn with either dress. 



YOU AND I. 



481 



Duties of "The Best Man" — The " best man " is an Eng- 
lish institution. Time was when he was unknown in this 
country. In those days, the groom provided a train of cavaliers 
to escort the brides-maids, and to stand at his side during the 
ceremony; but now the custom is to rely solely on the ser- 
vices of a " best man," and to have no other groomsman. 
This, however, is a mere matter of taste, and those who 
choose to follow the strictly American custom, need not fear 
being called old-fashioned. 

The " best man " is usually an intimate and valued friend of 
the groom. He accompanies the latter to church, stands at 
his side, and holds his hat during the ceremony and, at its 
conclusion, goes home with the bridal party (generally in a 
cou-p'e, by himself,) and then assists the ushers in introducing 
guests. He also arranges the business details of the wedding, 
as far as possible, for the groom, pays the clergyman his fee, 
and, if a wedding journey is on the programme, when the 
couple depart for the railway station, hastens on before them, 
in a separate carriage, sees to the checking of baggage and 
purchase of tickets and, when he can be of no further assis- 
tance, leaves the happy pair with his Godspeed and good 
wishes. 

The dress of the " best man " is like that of the groom or 
ushers, with the same distinction for morning or afternoon 
weddings as heretofore explained. 

Duties of the Brides-maid. — The principal duty of the 
brides-maid is to look pretty, and not out-shine the bride. She 
may wear a dainty costume of white or some delicate tint, not 
of so rich a fabric as the bride's, and without a train. Dressy 
hats or bonnets are often worn, and the flowers, instead of 
being arranged in the conventional bouquet, are carried in 
baskets. Sometimes, historical dresses are copied, and where 
31 



482 



CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES FOR WEDDINGS. 



these are in keeping with each other, and the colors managed 
harmoniously, the effect is very charming and picturesque. 

The brides-maid must not fail to keep her engagement, 
except in cases of sickness or death; in the latter contin- 
gency, the bride should be immediately informed of the fact. 

Fees and Favors from the Groom. — The groom gives the 
clergyman any fee (not less than rive dollars) that he thinks 
proper. He also sends flowers or some small souvenir, such 
as a locket, fan, or bangle, to the brides-maids; and to the 
ushers, scarf-pins, sleeve buttons, canes or any little remem- 
brance his ingenuity may suggest. He generally presents the 
bride with some gift, — a piece of jewelry, or anything that 
seems to him appropriate. He never neglects to send the 
wedding bouquet, or to provide the ring, where one is used in 
the ceremony. 

What the Bride Pays For. — The bride, or her family, pay 
for the invitations or wedding-cards, the wedding-breakfast or 
refreshments, and the carriages, except the one used by the 
u best man," which, being also needed by the groom to convey 
him to the church, is furnished by the latter. The bride also 
provides bontonnieres for the ushers or groomsmen, and 
bouquets for the maids. If she wish the latter to wear any 
unusual fabric or peculiar style of dress, she provides this also. 

Dress of the Bride. — The conventional costume is white 
satin, veil and orange blossoms, but this may be varied to suit 
the taste of the bride. Sometimes, roses or any other white 
blossoms are worn instead of the orange flowers, but the veil 
is worn only with white. The fabric of the gown may be any 
pretty, white material, or it need not be white at all. Several 
brides have looked charming of late in delicate tints of pink, 
cream, tea-rose, and heliotrope, and, where the wedding is 
very quiet, dark silks of tan, brown, wine or plum are becom- 



YOU AND I. 



483 



ingly worn. The traveling dress, which is so convenient as to 
necessitate no change for the wedding journey, has also 
found favor with many. 

Church Weddings. — There are several different ways of 
proceeding to the altar. One which has found much favor in 
high circles is this: the ushers go first, in pairs; then the 
brides-maids, two and two; next come some pretty children, 
not over ten years of age, carrying flowers; the bride, sup- 
ported on her father's right-arm, comes last. If her father is not 
living, some near, male relative, or her guardian, should take 
the father's place and be ready to give her away. When the 
bridal party arrives at the church, the groom and his " best 
man " step forth from the vestry and, with faces turned toward 
the centre aisle, await the coming of the bride. As the pro- 
cession reaches the altar, the ushers separate, half going to the 
right and half to the left ; the brides-maids also separate in the 
same manner, leaving a space for the bride and groom. The 
latter takes the bride by the hand, as she advances to the 
altar, and places her at his left; the children range themselves 
in a group a little back of the party, and the father, or who- 
ever escorted the bride, stands a little back of her, and in con- 
venient position to step forward at the proper moment and 
give her away, which he does by silently placing her right- 
hand in that of the clergyman. The mother and sisters of the 
bride sometimes stand at one side, a little back of the party, 
but, unless these enter with the cortege, they generally arrive 
a short time before, and are placed in the front pews. 

The bride and groom kneel a few moments in silent prayer, 
and when they rise, the ceremony begins. 

After the Ceremony. — The ceremony ended, the clergy- 
man congratulates the pair, but it is no longer considered 
good form to kiss the bride. This could never be other than 



CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES FOR WEDDINGS. 

embarrassing before a church full of people, and it seems 
much more fitting and graceful that the bride should be per- 
mitted to keep her veil over her face until well out of the 
church. The bride takes the left arm of the groom and 
passes down the aisle, followed first by the brides-maids, next 
the ushers and, lastly, the friends in regular order. 

A pretty fancy is to have the children who were part of the 
cortege, precede the bride and strew flowers in her path-way 
as she passes down the aisle; or other children may come 
forth from the pews opening on the aisle and, standing, shower 
rose leaves, or walk before the bride, strewing blossoms. 

Sometimes two pretty boys, costumed as pages of the olden 
time, bear the train of the bride. Where children are to 
appear as picturesque accessories, they should be well trained 
before the event, as one awkward mistake may turn the 
impressiveness of the occasion into burlesque. 

Other Forms. — Where groomsmen are to officiate instead 
of the "best man," the order of proceeding will be as follows: 
The brides-maids, each escorted by a groomsman, lead the pro- 
cession; next comes the mother of the bride on the arm of 
the groom; next the bride, on the arm of her father or nearest 
male relative older than herself. Arrived at the altar, the 
maids pass to the left, the gentlemen to the right; the groom 
either seats the mother in the front pew at the left, or places 
her a little back of the brides-maids; the father stands where 
he can conveniently give away the bride, and the latter stands 
at the left of the groom. In leaving the altar, the bridal pair 
lead, the brides-maids and groomsmen coming next, and the 
father and mother following together. 

When there are neither brides-maids nor ushers, the groom 
may wait at the altar with his " best man," while the father 
escorts the bride up the aisle ; or, where there is no " best 



YOU AND I. 



485 



man," the groom may walk with the mother, while the father 
follows to the altar with the bride. 

The Traveling Dress. — When the bride is married in trav- 
eling dress, the bonnet, also, is worn. The groom is attired 
the same as for a morning wedding, but may wear dark 
trousers and tie instead of light ones. 

Usually, there are neither brides-maids nor groomsmen, but 
there may still be ushers if there are to be many guests, and 
the groom may have his "best man." 

The Wedding- Guest. — The guest should endeavor to arrive 
at the church five or ten minutes before the entrance of the 
bridal party, and should not hasten out after the ceremony, 
but wait until the cortege is well out of the church. 

The Reception. — Half the maids stand at the right of the 
bride, and half at the left of the groom, while the parents of 
the lady stand at a little distance at her right, and those of 
the groom, at his left. They are now in position for the usual 
congratulations. The nearest relatives and friends are the 
first to offer congratulations, and are now considered the only 
ones privileged to salute the bride with a kiss; the custom of 
all the guests kissing the bride has become obsolete in fash- 
ionable circles. 

Presents. — Wedding presents are not now generally exhib- 
ited, and when they are, the cards are removed from them. 
The good taste of this proceeding will at once recommend 
itself to all, without explanation. 

Presents sent to the bride, if marked, bear her maiden 
name or initials; those to the groom, his cipher or initial. 

Acknowledging Gifts. — The bride should send a short 
note of acknowledgment to all who have given presents. If 
these arrive in time to send thanks before the wedding, she 



486 CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES FOR WEDDINGS. 

may do so; if not, she should provide herself with a list of the 
givers, and write her note of thanks while on her wedding- 
tour. 

Refreshments. — A table is usually set in an adjoining room, 
as for an ordinary reception, with salads, oysters, ices and 
confectionary, and these are served en buffet to the guests. 
This method is proper for either a morning or evening wed- 
ding. 

The Wedding Breakfast. — This is an English custom 
which is gaining favor in this country, but only when a lim- 
ited number of guests are to be invited. Invitations are usur^ 
ally sent out ten days or two weeks in advance, and should be 
immediately accepted or declined, as in the case of a formal 
dinner. Gentlemen, on arriving at the house, leave their hats 
in the hall, but ladies do not remove their bonnets. 

The guests pay their respects to the bride and groom, and 
then converse together until breakfast is announced. The 
order of proceeding to the dining-room is as follows: The 
bride and groom, the bride's father with the groom's mother, 
the groom's father with the bride's mother, the " best man " 
with the first brides-maid, the remaining brides-maids with 
ushers or other gentlemen invited for the distinction, and the 
remainder of the guests in such order as the hostess shall 
arrange. The wedding-cake is set before the bride and she 
cuts the first slice. 

When toasts are given, the health of the bride is the first 
to be proposed, generally by the father of the groom, and this 
is responded to by the father of the bride. 

Coffee and tea are not generally served, but bouillon, with 
hot and cold dishes and wines, if desired, are offered. 

Shall We Send Cake? — Cake is no longer sent to friends, 
(unless one may wish to make an exception of some friend at 



YOU AND I. 



487 



a distance), but is neatly packed in small boxes, and each 
guest may, if she wish, take one when leaving the house. 

Parents in Mourning. — Parents who are in mourning 
should leave off funeral weeds at a wedding. The mother 
should wear a gown of some other color than black, even if 
she intend to resume mourning after the bride's departure. 

Guests in Mourning. — If guests go in mourning to the 
church, they should not mingle with those in full toilette or 
place themselves where they are likely to be seen by the bride. 
If they appear at the reception, they should lay aside black 
for the occasion. 

The Home Wedding. — Home weddings seem to be grow- 
ing in favor, though there will always be those who desire the 
added impressiveness and solemnity which the deep-toned 
organ and all the sacred associations of the church give to the 
ceremony. We once heard a young lady remark that she 
should not think she was legally married if the wedding did 
not take place in church. Nevertheless, there are those who 
shrink from the publicity, and who, therefore, prefer the home 
wedding. 

When it is desired, an altar of flowers may be arranged in 
the drawing-room. It is placed near the wall, allowing just 
enough space for the minister to stand. He then faces the 
guests, while the bride and groom face him. Hassocks for 
keeling are placed before the altar, and a space large enough 
for the bridal party to stand is usually marked off by a ribbon 
stretched across a portion of the room. 

Brides-maids and the " best man " are generally dispensed 
with at home weddings, though they may act in the ceremo- 
nial if it is desired that they should do so. 

The clergyman takes his place behind the altar, and the 
bridal party enter, as at church. After the ceremony is over, 



483 



CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES FOR WEDDINGS. 



the}* turn around, facing their guests, and receive congratula- 
tions. If space be an object, the kneeling stool and altar are 
then removed, or the latter may be pushed up against the wall 
to serve as an additional decoration. 

The forms observed after this are the same as those given 
for the reception. 

If there be dancing, and the bride take part in it, she leads 
the first quadrille with the " best man," and the groom dances 
with the first brides-maid. 

Leaving for the Wedding Journey. — When the time for 
departure draws near, the bride and groom quietly withdraw 
to their dressing-rooms, without taking leave of their guests, 
and make the necessary changes in dress for traveling. At 
large receptions, only the most intimate friends remain to wish 
them bon voyage and to throw rice and slippers after the car- 
riage. 

It is not considered in good taste to ask where the 
newly married pair are going, or where the honey-moon is to 
be spent. Still, if the bride or groom volunteer the informa- 
tion, there can be no impropriety in discussing the matter. 

Traveling Dress of the Bride. — The traveling costume 
will, of course, be regulated by the fashion of the period, but 
like any sensible traveling dress, it will be quiet in color, and 
of material suited to the occasion. Any extra magnificence 
or showiness will be avoided by people of good taste and 
modesty, who will not care to advertise the fact of their being 
on a wedding-tour. 

The Widovfs Marriage. — Authorities differ as to the eti- 
quette of the widow's marriage. One says she should neither 
dress in white, wear a veil, nor have brides-maids; another, 
that she may have maids, and wear white, but no veil or 



YOU AND /. 



489 



orange blossoms. Mrs. Sherwood says: " She should, at 
church, wear a colored silk and a bonnet. She should be 
attended by her father, brother, or some near friend." 

W e should say that the veil and orange blossoms are not to 
be thought of, that a white gown is in doubtful taste, as it 
seems on such an occasion to be the especial symbol of the 
maiden, that brides-maids are also much more appropriate for 
the first wedding, and that some delicately tinted silk, with 
roses or other blossoms, would be most fitting for the occasion. 
If in church, as Mrs. Sherwood suggests, a bonnet should be 
worn. A traveling costume is also in good taste. Out of 
consideration for the groom, the widow should remove her 
first wedding-ring. 

When a reception is to be held at the home of her parents, 
a bride's maiden name forms part of her proper name on the 
invitations. 

Calls After the Wedding. — Those who receive cards only 
to the church, consider that a card left within a month or two 
thereafter, or an invitation extended to the bride when giving 
an entertainment, is all that is required, though it is consid- 
ered, by some, proper to call, the same as after having 
received an invitation to the reception. 

Guests at the reception, or those who have been invited 
and have not attended, should call on the parents within ten 
days or two weeks after the event. 

Announcement of Marriage. — If the wedding is private, the 
custom is to send, soon afterward, marriage notices to friends. 
Often, when the pair are absent on their wedding-tour, such 
announcements are sent by the parents. The following form 
seems to give a formal sanction to the alliance: 



490 



CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES FOR WEDDINGS. 



Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Talbot 
announce the marriage of their daughter 
Blanche Afar eta 
to 

Thomas Goring All grave, 
Wednesday, October tenth, 
1885. 

The recipients of such cards send notes of congratulation to 
the parents, and, when intimate friends, to the bride and 
groom. 

Receptions After Marriage. — It is customary for the newly 
married pair to receive on certain days during the first month 
after becoming established in their new home. Sometimes 
the announcement of such receptions accompanies the wed- 
ding-cards, and may simply state the following: 

Wednesdays in May. 

49 PARK SQUARE. 

If the receptions are to be held in the evening, this should 
be distinctly stated. 

These invitations occasionally accompany the announce- 
ment of the marriage, where there has been a quiet wedding, 
and no reception. In this case, the form would be like the 
following : 

Thomas G. Allgrave, 
Blanche Marcia Talbot, 

Married, 
Wednesday, October tenth, 1885. 



At home, 
Wednesday evenings in November. 

49 PARK SQUARE. NEW YORK. 



YOU AND I. 



491 



Another form would be this : 

Mr. and Mrs. Thomas G. A llgrave, 

at ho7ne, 
Wednesday evenings in November. 

40 PARK SQUARE. NEW YORK. 

These announcements should be sent about ten days or two 
weeks before the first reception day. 

Receptions Given by Parents. — Sometimes, when there has 
not been a reception at the time of the wedding, one is given 
for the young couple by the mother of the bride, after their 
return, even if they have begun housekeeping for themselves. 
If the parents of the groom also give them a reception, it 
should follow that of the bride's parents. 

When the reception is in the evening, the invitations are in 
the name of the parents, accompanied by a card containing 
the names of the bride and groom, enclosed in an envelope. 
If in the afternoon, the form will be this: 

Mrs. Gerald Talbot, 
Mrs. Thomas G. Allgrave, 

at home, 
Thursday, November ninth, 1885, 
from four to six o'clock. 

Bride 1 s Dress for Receptions. — The bride wears, at her 
receptions in her own or her parents' house, a dark silk, as 
rich and elegant as her tastes or means will permit, but with- 
out any traces of the bridal ornaments. She may wear, at 
parties or dinners, her wedding-dress, without veil or orange 
blossoms, if she wish. 



49'2 CUSTOMS AND COSTUMES FOR WEDDINGS. 

Refreshments at Receptions. — The table at the bride's 
receptions should be exceedingly simple. Tea or chocolate, 
with cake, is quite sufficient. On a very cold day, bouillon is 
always acceptable. An elaborate menu at such receptions 
would be considered absolutely vulgar by society people. 

Courtesies to the Newly Married Couple. — The brides- 
maids, if in the habit of entertaining, should give a party or 
dinner to the married pair, or a four o'clock tea to the bride. 
Friends, when having entertainments, for several months after 
the event, should give them in honor of the newly married 
pair, unless they may especially wish to distinguish some one 
else on the occasion. 

The bride should not feel in duty bound to respond to these 
civilities by elaborate entertainments, unless she is wealthy 
enough to fully warrant the outlay, as society is quite willing 
to entertain her without any immediate return of hospitalities. 

A few Suggestions. — The bridal outfit should be in keep- 
ing with the position in life which the bride will assume after 
marriage. If the means will be limited, it is better to reserve, 
for more needful purposes, a part of the money which is often 
spent is an extravagant trousseau and an elaborate wedding. 

On the wedding journey, or anywhere in the presence of 
others, all demonstrations of affection should be suppressed. 
However interesting it may be to the blissful pair, they are 
only considered by the cold, unfeeling world from a cynical or 
amusing point of view. The bride of good taste, who shrinks 
from being stared at, will not wear anything which is showy, 
" dressy," conspicuous, or in any way suggestive of the wed- 
ding, on her bridal journey. 



RECEPTIONS, KETTLE-DRUMS AND 
FIVE O'CLOCK TEAS. 




ECEPTIONS are not 
only pleasant methods 
o f entertaining more 
friends than one pos- 
sibly can at a party or dinner, but they 
are especially adapted to the convenience 
of society people who may have several engagements for one 
date. Those held in the afternoon usually include ladies only, 
as the business habits of nearly all American gentlemen pre- 
vent their attending at that time. In the evening, gentlemen 
are expected, and, if they can not be present, they should send 
their cards while the reception is in progress. 

Invitations. — The form most in use is simply for the hostess 
to add to her usual visiting-card the words, " At home," with 
the date and hours for reception. Should anything more 
elaborate be required, something like the following may 
be used: 

Mr. and Mrs. James Watrous 

request the pleasure of your company 
on Thursday evening, November $th, 
from eight to eleven o'clock, 

40 MURDOCH SQUARE. 

493 



YOU AXD I. 



If a series of receptions are to be given, the visiting-card 
may have added, at the lower left-hand corner, the words: 

Wednesdays in January, 
from four to six o'clock. 

These cards may be sent by post in a single envelope, or 
by messenger, or the hostess may have them left from her 
carriage as she is driven from house to house. 

Shall We Answer? — No answer is required, either of 
acceptance or regret, to such an invitation, unless a response 
is requested. 

Refreshments and Other Arrangements. — A table from 
which light refreshments are served en buffet, is set in an 
apartment convenient of access. Here is stationed a butler or 
head waiter, with a man, and sometimes a maid-servant, to 
assist in serving. The refreshments usually consist of oysters 
or salads, rolls, coffee, cake, ices and confectionery. An 
elaborate menu, especially at an afternoon reception which 
comes so shortly before the dinner hour, is considered in bad 
taste. In the evening something more may be added if wished, 
but the list given comprises all that is necessary. 

The house may be made as beautiful with flowers, palms and 
trailing vines as the means or taste of the hostess may suggest. 
At very elaborate affairs, or when the weather is inclement, an 
awning and carpet extend from the entrance to the carriage 
landing. A man-servant or maid-servant opens the door with- 
out allowing the guest to ring. The former wears white thread 
gloves and black dress-suit, the latter a neat gown and dainty 
cap. He or she may hold a salver to receive the cards of 
guests, or a basket or table may stand in the hall for this pur- 
pose. A maid-servant is also stationed in the ladies' dressing- 
room to remove the wraps of those who wish to do so. At 



RECEPTIONS, KETTLE-DRUMS, ETC. 495 

very large afternoon receptions a man-servant is a great con- 
venience, whose duty it is to assist ladies from their carriages, to 
give the coachman his number, and to be ready to call him 
when needed. He can better be dispensed with in the evening, 
when the ladies are accompanied by escorts, but he is a 
convenience at either time, unless a footman goes with the 
carriage. 

Sometimes a band of music adds to the festive character of 
the entertainment, but it should be stationed sufficiently far from 
the lady or ladies receiving not to interfere with conversation. 

The Hostess. — The hostess, and those who assist her in 
receiving, should stand at a convenient distance from the 
entrance, and should introduce guests, if not acquainted^ to 
her assistants. She should try to throw into her welcome a 
feeling of cordiality and genuine pleasure, but should not 
detain the guest who may wish to give room to others, by 
any extended remarks. At large receptions the hostess rarely 
introduces guests to each other. 

The Guest. — The guest, on entering, lays upon the salver or 
table in the hall, his or her card and the card of a member of 
the family who has been invited and is unable to attend. If a 
dressing-room has been provided for gentlemen, they leave 
their hats and overcoats there; if not, they are deposited in 
the hall. 

Ladies may or may not leave their wraps in the dressing- 
room. As a general thing, the atmosphere of the drawing- 
room is so warm as to render even a slight addition to the 
costume burdensome, and it is usually advisable to allow the 4 
attendant to take charge of wraps. 

Guests do not generally stay over half an hour, unless there 
is dancing. Sometimes only a favored few are asked to 
remain and join in a quadrille. 



496 



YOU AND I. 



Guests are not obliged to seek out the hostess before leavings 
especially if she be busily engaged in receiving. Still, if they 
particularly wish to do so, the courtesy is never out of place. 

When a series of receptions are given, if the recipient of an 
invitation has not been able to attend, he or she should send a 
card for the last one at least, and some people are so careful 
as to send a card each time to remind the hostess that, though 
not present, they have not forgotten the compliment of an 
invitation. 

Reception Dress. — For day receptions, ladies wear a visiting 
costume with bonnet. These should be as handsome as the 
wardrobe affords. Natural flowers may be added if desired. 

Gentlemen are seen in morning dress, but for evening 
receptions they should wear dress-coats and white or light 
tinted neck-ties. 

The ladies' dress for evening is much the same as for after- 
noon, except that lighter colors and more jewelry may be 
worn. When the reception is of the nature of a soiree, bonnets 
are removed. 

Calls. — Calls are not necessary after a reception, except in 
the case of those who received cards and were unable to attend. 

The Kettle-drum. — A kettle-drum is only a reception with 
another name. It is, generally, a little less formal than the 
ordinary reception. Guests remain any length of time, within 
the stated hours, they choose; and conversation and, perhaps, 
music is the order of entertainment. 

Its Origin. — The term, "kettle-drum," is said to have 
originated among officers' wives who, limited in the elegant 
facilities of social life by the exigencies of garrison surround- 
ings, invited their friends to informal entertainments, in which 
the refreshments were served on the drum-head. They could 



RECEPTIONS, KETTLE-DRUMS, ETC. 



497 



not set out their own dainty china, neither could they rely on 
the trained servant or caterer they had been accustomed to at 
home, so they served their cup of tea, rolls, or sandwiches, from 
such dishes as they could command, and geniality, pleasant 
conversation and improvised music more than compensated 
for the lack of elaborate appointments. 

The Kettle-drum Proper. — The kettle-drum proper should 
carry out the original significance of the term, in being simple 
and informal as to the refreshments and all appointments. 
True, it may be conducted after the same form as that 
described under " Receptions, " but less ceremony is more in 
keeping. The ladies receive standing, the same as at recep- 
tions, but a lady of the family, or a friend, presides at the tea- 
urn, and may or may not be assisted by a man-servant or 
maid-servant. 

Some pretty caprices indulged in by hostesses at these 
affairs, were to have a tiny drum beaten at intervals near the 
tea-table, and the young lady who served the tea was costumed 
nattily as a vivandiere. 

Kettle-drums are always held in the afternoon ; the refresh- 
ments consist of tea, coffee, chocolate, sandwiches, buns and 
cake; and the invitation is simply the addition to the visiting- 
card of the words, " kettle-drum, " with date and hour. The 
dress is the same as for a reception. 

The Five O"* clock Tea. — The five o'clock tea is even less 
ceremonious than the kettle-drum. As a general thing, the 
number invited is not large. The tea or coffee equipage is 
on a side-table, together with plates of thin sandwiches and 
cake, and is served by members of the family or friends, with- 
out the assistance of servants. The enjoyment of the five 
o'clock tea is more in the mental and social attractions of the 
guests than in the eating and drinking. 

32 



-±98 



YOU AND I. 



The invitations are, usually, the lady's visiting-card with the 
words, " five o'clock tea," and date, written in the lower left- 
hand corner. 

Breakfasts. — The hour for a breakfast party may be any- 
where between half -past nine and eleven o'clock. Very formal 
breakfasts are sometimes given at twelve, but these can be 
breakfast only in name in our busy country where every one 
rises before ten o'clock, except singers, the theatrical profes- 
sion, and literary people who prefer the night hours for their 
work. People who get up at the usual time must have a 
lunch before noon, and thus the twelve o'clock breakfast is in 
reality a formal luncheon. 

Breakfasts, given to a few congenial people, may be made 
very charming affairs. Lord Macaulay has said: "Dinner- 
parties are mere formalities; but you invite a man to break- 
fast because you want to see him." 

Occasionally, one may be invited to the latter for the same 
reason that he is to dinner, to pay off an obligation, to be 
lionized, or on some other score; but, proportionately, as there 
is less formality and fewer courses than at a dinner, is there 
more enjoyment and social interchange. 

Gentlemen and ladies are invited to breakfast, but among 
the former, only artists, literary men, and those who can take 
up their work at whatever hour they please, are able to attend. 

Invitations to breakfast are, usually, informal notes, or the 
the lady's visiting-card, having below the name the words, 
''breakfast at ten o'clock," with date underneath. These are 
sent out about five days before the event, and should receive 
an answer. Sometimes an informal and im-profnftu breakfast 
may be given with only a day or two intervening between 
Lhe invitation and the date. 



RECEPTIONS, KETTLE-DRUMS, ETC. 



499 



Going to the Table. — The order of proceeding to the table 
is the same as that for dining, and may be found in the chapter 
on "Ceremonious Dinners." The host takes out the lady to 
be most distinguished, and cards are found on the plates, indi- 
cating where the guests are to be seated. The gentlemen 
are informed by card as to whom they shall take out to the 
dining-room, and if unacquainted, should ask for an introduc- 
tion. When there is no host, the lady of the house leads the 
way with the gentleman to be most honored. 

The Breakfast-table. — There should be choice viands pre- 
pared in the daintiest style, but the food should not be so 
heavy, nor the courses so numerous, as at a dinner. If there 
are less than eight guests, it is not necessary to place cards on 
the plates. The breakfast may be served from the sideboard 
or table, in courses, and the hostess herself dispenses the coffee, 
chocolate, or tea, whichever is preferred. 

The signal to rise is given by the hostess to the opposite 
lady guest, when the entire party adjourn to the drawing-room. 

After Breakfast. — Guests usually depart within half an 
hour after leaving the table. 

After exceedingly simple breakfasts, calls are not expected, 
but after very formal affairs, they are made, the same as in 
the case of dinners. 

The Costume. — Walking-dress is worn by both gentlemen 
and ladies. Gloves are appropriate to such costumes, and 
are removed after sitting down to the table. Very formal 
breakfasts demand a handsome reception toilette, and for the 
gentlemen, frock-coats and light trousers. White vests may 
be worn if the weather is warm, or if it is customary to do so 
in the time or place where the breakfast is given. 



500 



YOU AND I. 



Luncheons. — The lunch, or luncheon, is strictly a ladies' 
affair. To the formal lunch, gentlemen are not invited. At 
these, the food is served very much the same as at a ceremo- 
nious dinner; the bonbonnieres are as elaborate and the favors 
as expensive. The dress worn is like an elegant reception 
toilette, and the forms observed are much the same as those 
for dinners. 

The Informal Lunch. — The lunch to which a friend is asked 
to drop in when he pleases, or even the affair to which a few 
friends, gentlemen and ladies, have been asked, is a comfort- 
able, easy-going meal, in which the dishes are mostly cold, 
and a guest is pardoned for coming late. The company do 
not go in arm in arm, and have no especial seat assigned them 
at the table, but sit where it is most convenient. 

The Table. — In England the luncheon very much resembles 
a plain American dinner, being generally a roast, vegetables, 
pastry, fruit and a glass of wine. 

In this country the table may be set with flowers or fruity 
plates of thin bread and butter, jellies, creams, cakes and pre- 
serves, a dish of cold salmon mayonnaise, and decanters of 
sherry and claret. The butler places a cold ham or chicken 
on the sideboard, and a pitcher of ice-water on a side-table, 
and takes no heed of the baser wants of humanity until dinner 
time. An under servant then waits at table. 

After the cold meats or more substantial dishes are served, 
the servant may retire, and the hostess can serve the pastry or 
ice herself, with the assistance of her guests. The servant 
should first remove plates and prepare the table, also providing 
the lady who serves with clean plates, forks and spoons, before 
leaving. 

Tea or coffee are not offered during, or after, luncheon. 



RECEPTIONS, KETTLE-DRUMS, ETC. 501 

The guest should not remain long after the meal, as the hostess 
may have engagements. 

For a more formal lunch, Mrs. Sherwood has given some 
good hints. " Suppose it to be served a la Russe, the first 
entree — let us say chops and green peas — is handed by 
the waiter, commencing with the lady who sits on the right- 
hand of the master of the house. This is followed by vege- 
tables. Plates having been renewed, a salad and some cold 
ham can be offered. The waiter fills the glasses with sherry, 
or offers claret. When champagne is served at lunch, it is 
immediately after the first dish has been served, and claret and 
sherry are not then given unless asked for." 

After the salad, a fresh plate, with a dessert-spoon and small 
fork upon it, is placed before each person. The ice-cream, pie, 
or pudding is then placed in front of the hostess, who cuts it 
and puts a portion on each plate. After these dainties have 
been discussed, a glass plate, serviette and finger-bowl are 
placed before each guest, with fruit. The servant takes the 
plate from his mistress, after she has filled it, and hands it to 
the lady of first consideration, and so on. When only mem- 
bers of the family are present at luncheon, the mistress of the 
house is helped first. 

A lady with one servant, or no servant at all, may safely 
rest, nor fear the chance visitor, if directly after breakfast she 
prepare a mayonnaise, salad, a well-seasoned ragout of 
hashed meat, toast and potates, or a round of cold corned beef. 
Any one of these dishes may serve for the principal one, and 
with a plain cake, a blanc mange and some fruit-, the table will 
not be meagre. 

It is well to learn to garnish dishes tastefully with capers, a 
border of water cresses, celery tops, or parsley, and to cut 
carrots and other vegetables into fanciful shapes, as even a 



502 



YOU AND I. 



plain lunch, prettily set out, will prove more appetizing than a 
greater variety in less attractive shape. 

Invitations to Lunch. — Invitations vary and are of all 
degrees, according to the formality of the luncheon. If it is 
to be a very ceremonious affair, the invitation may be the same 
as to a dinner, with the word " luncheon " substituted for "din- 
ner," and may be sent out about ten days before the event. If 
you simply want to talk over something with your friend, you 
may write on a small sheet of note paper: 

My dear Mrs. Farnum : 

Do come and lunch with me at one. 

Yours sincerely, 

EDITH STANTON. 

Friday, 10 A. M., 
Oct. 3, 1884. 

Between these two extremes there may be different forms, 
as the exigencies of the case or the degree of intimacy may 
suggest. 

Luncheon Dress. — The usual walking costume is generally 
worn, except to very ceremonious affairs, when a handsome 
visiting toilette is appropriate. In the country, or at summer 
resorts, ladies and gentlemen may come in lawn-tennis or 
yachting suits, or any costume which they may happen to be 
wearing out of doors at the lunch hour. 

Suppers. — Suppers are gentlemen's parties, and are usually 
given at nine or ten o'clock in the evening. The invitation 
may be either a ceremonious or friendly note, or simply the 
host's visiting-card, with the words: 

Supper at ten o'clock, 
Wednesday, December jth. 



RECEPTIONS, KETTLE-DRUMS, ETC. 



508 



Or one may be asked verbally without finding it necessary to 
be shocked. 

There are fish suppers, wine suppers, game suppers, and 
champagne suppers. 

At the first, the menu is mostly fish with the proper 
accompaniments. Salads and fruits, but no sweet dessert, 
coffee and wines complete the repast. 

A game supper means wild fowl, coffee and wines, with 
dessert of pastry, bonbons and ices. 

A champagne or wine supper differs little in luxury from 
a dinner, except that the dishes are cold instead of hot, 
and the pastries and dessert may be as rich as the host or 
head cook chooses. 

These parties do not generally break up before one or two 
o'clock in the morning, and can only be indulged in by men of 
phenomenal digestion and invincible physical powers. 

The Family Suffer — The English custom of late suppers 
seems to be gaining ground among certain fashionable people. 
An informal supper may be served on a red table-cloth, with 
a high dish of oranges and apples or other fruit for a centre- 
piece. There may be some sliced, cold corned-beef or ham, 
pickled tongue, a dish of hashed meat garnished with parsley, 
bread, butter and cheese, with ale, cider or wine, or there may 
be oysters and cold fowl. Hot vegetables are never served. 

Where many guests are invited, the menu sometimes closely 
resembles that of a ceremonious dinner, except that soup is 
omitted. 



MANNERS WHILE TRAVELING. 






iT no time is one's stock of 
JJ, politeness more likely to be 
W put to the test than when trav- 
eling. We naturally wish to be 
as comfortable as possible, and to 
secure and hold possession of such 
^ conveniences as we feel ourselves en- 
titled to; but this certainly does not 
justify us in crowding, pushing and trampling upon others in 
the mad pursuit after these desirable things. Anything gained 
at the expense of decent manners is bought too dearly to be 
enjoyed by right-minded people. 

The Gentleman Escort. — When a gentleman is to escort a 
a lady upon a journey, he either accompanies her to the station, 
or meets her there, in sufficient time to attend to the checking 
of her baggage, the procuring of her ticket, and the securing 
of an eligible seat in the cars. He arranges her hand baggage, 
and takes a seat near her, or by her side if invited by her to 
do so. In the ordinary passenger coach, a lady would most 
likely take the latter course, for, should the car be crowded, 
she will be obliged to share her seat with some one, and she 
would undoubtedly much prefer her escort to an entire 



stranger. 



504 



MANNERS WHILE TRAVELING. 



505 



The destination reached, the gentleman conducts his charge 
to the ladies' waiting-room, while he attends to her baggage, 
and secures whatever vehicle she may desire to convey her to 
the hotel or private house which she indicates. He should 
call upon her the next day, if he remain in the city, to inquire 
how she stood the journey. 

Duties of a Lady to Her Escort. — The lady should either 
supply her escort with the amount of money necessary to 
defray her expenses, before purchasing her ticket, or, if he 
prefer, she may allow him to pay the bills, and settle the 
account at the end of the journey. The latter course, however, 
should not be adopted unless the gentleman first propose it 
and wish it, and a strict account of items, which will leave 
nothing for the gentleman to pay for from his own purse, must 
be insisted on. Ladies generally prefer the former method, 
and no gentleman will insist upon the latter way, if the lady 
state her preference. 

A lady should not make unnecessary demands upon the 
patience and good nature of her escort. Some people seem to 
continually want hand baggage taken down from the rack, a 
glass of water from the other end of the car, or a cup of tea 
from every third station on the road. Such ladies should 
employ a maid, or else occasionally wait on themselves; they 
can scarcely expect such continual service from an escort or 
mere acquaintance. 

Above all things, don't be fussy, apprehensive or nervous 
concerning the safety of yourself or your baggage. If you 
are afraid you are on the wrong train or your baggage has 
gone wrong, don't reflect on the ability of your escort by con- 
tinually troubling him about it. If you have good cause to 
think such is the case, investigate for yourself, and take the 
matter in your own hands. If the gentleman is incapable of 



506 



YOU AND /. 



attending to your affairs, you are perfectly right in taking the 
matter in your own hands, but, in nine cases out of ten, he is 
more likely to know the ins and outs of railway travel than 
yourself ; and if he takes upon himself the extra burden of 
your affairs, you should pay him the compliment of at least 
seeming to have perfect confidence in his ability. 

Have as little hand baggage as you possibly can, and do 
not wait until the last minute, when nearing your destination, 
to have it within reach, and your hat, bonnet, veil or acces- 
sories of your toilette adjusted for instant departure when the 
train stops. It occassionally happens that the train is behind 
time, and, if you are to make connections, not many minutes 
are to spare. At all events, it is best to be ready for emer- 
gencies. 

A certain authority says, in speaking of the escort, that it is 
optional with the lady whether or not the acquaintance shall 
be continued after the call, but, " if the lady does not wish to 
prolong the acquaintance, she can have no right, nor can her 
friends, to request a similar favor of him at another time," 
We should think the latter would be quite obvious to any one 
of average common sense, but should also suppose that no lady 
would accept such courtesies from any gentleman whom she 
would afterward be unwilling to recognize, unless something 
damaging to his character might come to light, of which she 
was at the time unaware. 

The Lady Alone. — A lady traveling alone may accept from 
a fellow passenger small services, such as the raising or lower- 
ing of a window, assistance in getting on or off the train, 
carrying bags, claiming trunks or calling a carriage. There 
is very rarely found a man who will presume upon such slight 
grounds. If the journey be a long one, a lady need not fear 
to make herself agreeable to other passengers, even should 



MANNERS WHILE TRAVALING. 



507 



they happen to be gentlemen. The woman of fine perceptions 
will know just how far such a chance acquaintance ought to 
go, and it rests entirely with her where to draw the line. The 
slightest overtures at undue familiarty will scarcely ever be 
attempted without some encouragement. Of course, there are 
exceptions to any rule, and there will occasionally be a clown 
or a rowdy among a trainful of passengers who will attempt 
to persecute a lady ; but there is always some escape from even 
this affliction. Women of dignity and of quiet, lady-like appear- 
ance and behavior have traveled alone for years without a 
single unpleasant experience of this character. It need 
scarcely be said that anything like conspicuous flirting with 
strange gentlemen will not be indulged in by a lady of 
refinement. 

An acquaintance formed on a railway train need not after- 
ward be continued. 

To ladies traveling alone, we would say: — Cultivate habits 
of self-reliance, be capable of attending to your own baggage, 
obtain time-tables and inform yourself as to the time your 
train starts, buy your own tickets, and, if you need extra inform- 
ation, inquire of officials, who will always be easily distin- 
guished by their uniform, and whose business it is to answer 
all reasonable questions from travelers. If you wish the con- 
ductor to answer any inquiries, ask him before the time comes 
for stopping at a station, as he is then busy and hurried. 

Do not give money or checks into the hands of a stranger 
to buy your tickets or obtain your trunks. A swindler or 
" confidence man " may have the most polished exterior, and 
you need not be surprised if he take advantage of your 
credulity to rob you in the most expeditious manner. 

Dress stylishly if you can, but let it be neatly and plainly, 
with no extra adornments, and very little jewelry. Glistening 
stones, especially diamonds, are decidedly out of place. 



508 



YOU AND /. 



Let your conduct be as quiet as your dress, and you can go 
from Boston to San Francisco without trouble. 

In a parlor or sleeping car, if you have anything which is 
likely to be in your own or other people's way, entrust it to 
the porter to take care of. It is customary to offer him a 
small fee, but if you do not choose to do so, you may ask his 
services without, as he is expected to perform the usual duties 
required of him by passengers. 

Ladies Assisting Other Ladies. — It is not only polite, but 
it should be considered a duty for ladies to give assistance to 
other ladies who, by reason of youth, inexperience, ill health, 
extreme age or any other cause, may stand in need of advice 
or some kindly act, which they are in a position to render. 

Consideration for Others. — No one should raise or lower a 
window without consulting the comfort of those in the imme- 
diate vicinity. It is generally the person directly back of the 
window that is most affected by the draught, and should be 
the first to be considered. 

No lady will insist on retaining two seats when other pas- 
sengers are obliged to stand. We recently saw, on a six 
hours trip, two women occupy four seats, by having the one 
in front of them turned over and filled with baggage. A 
gentleman, who was forced to stand, after a time asked them 
to vacate one of the seats, which they refused to do. There- 
upon ensued a wordy war, in which the sharp speeches of the 
unwomanly offenders were applauded by the rougher portion 
of the passengers, and the real ladies present not only meta- 
phorically, but literally, blushed for their sex. The conductor 
being finally appealed to, he compelled the ill-bred passengers 
to make room for the gentleman who had so pluckily asserted 
his rights. At another time we saw two gentlemen forcibly 



MANNERS WHILE TRAVELING. 



509 



turn over a seat which had been piled up with the baggage of 
a married pair, and the disgraceful scene which ensued quite 
justified the epithet "hog," which a gentleman who sat near 
applied to the owner of the baggage. 

In the Sleeping Car. — No lady with any consideration for 
the rights or comforts of others will occupy the dressing-room 
for a half hour or more for the purpose of making an elaborate 
toilette. We remember not long ago having seen such a one; 
and we also remember the ladies who stood around that door 
waiting for a chance to enter. The motion of the train 
banged them hither and thither against the walls of the narrow 
passage way, and the remainder of the passengers eyed the 
closed door with growing indignation. Just as the train was 
about to stop, the female " hog " stepped forth, and the ladies, 
who were ready to drop with weariness and vexation, were 
obliged to change cars or snatch a hasty breakfast, without 
having had even an opportunity to wash their hands. 

A lady who has traveled considerably, says she can always 
manage to dress her hair before leaving her berth; she also 
arranges her toilette as far as possible, so that in the dressing- 
room she -has only to wash, brush teeth, or, perhaps, don fresh 
cuffs and collar; and this she can always manage inside of ten 
minutes. This lady at home is in the habit of making a care- 
ful and leisurely toilette, but where one small room is in turn 
to accommodate all the feminine portion of the travelers in a 
railway coach, she is well-bred enough to sacrifice some of 
her own convenience to the comfort of others. Her example 
is to be commended. 

Those not wishing to retire should not disturb the repose of 
others by loud talking or laughter after the majority of the 
passengers have gone to their berths. 



510 



YOU AND /. 



Retaining a Seat, — If it is necessary for a passenger to 
leave his seat to look after baggage, procure a lunch, time- 
table, etc., he may retain possession of his seat by leaving a 
traveling bag, overcoat, or any of his belongings upon it. 
The right of possession must be respected by others, even 
though the seat be a gentleman's and should be wanted by 
a lady. A gentleman should not, however, retain a seat 
in this manner, while he spends the greater part of his time in 
the smoking car. 

A gentleman is not expected to give up his seat in a rail- 
way car to a lady, though almost any one would prefer to do 
so rather than see a lady stand. 

In a street car the case is somewhat different, as the incon- 
venience of standing is much less to a gentleman and much 
more to a lady. No gentleman, unless ill or aged, will allow 
a lady to stand while he sits in a street car. 

On the Steamer. — Where people are thrown together for 
several days with nothing to do but amuse themselves, it is 
quite natural that the genial side of human nature should 
come to the top. On board a steamer, people have better 
opportunities, and are brought into closer social contact with 
each other, than in railway travel; it is therefore even more 
permissible to speak, and enter into conversation with a fel- 
low passenger without being introduced, as it is always under- 
stood that such acquaintances are not necessarily continued; 
and it is not only permissible, but right, that each one should 
contribute his mite toward the pleasure and entertainment of 
his fellow passengers, who thus meet, for the time being, on 
an equal footing. 

The steamer piano, like the hotel instrument, is a much 
abused thing; pray don't torture it often, unless you can bring 
real music from its strings. In that case, it will agreeably 



MANNERS WHILE TRAVELING. §\\ 

break the monotony, and amuse those who are trying to kill 
time. 

Never allude to sea-sickness at the table. It is in bad taste 
at any table, but is still more so on the water when most 
people are more squeamish than usual. 



THE AWKWARD AND SHY. 




AN in society is like a 
flower blown in its na- 
tive bud. It is there 
alone his faculties, 



M expanded in full 
bloom, shine out; 
there only reach their proper use," 
says Cowper, the bashful man, thus 
exemplifying in himself the fact that those who most fully 
realize the benefits to be derived from society are often the 
ones who most shrink from it. 
Man is naturally gregarious. If it had not been meant that 
he should be so, he would not have been endowed with the 
organs of speech and a vast wealth of expression. It is by 
contact with humanity that we become more tender, more 
unselfish, more sympathetic, more .wise, and less egotistic. 

Granted, then, that it is a good thing to seek the society of 
our fellow creatures, and that we ought to do so, if not from 
inclination, from a sense of duty to ourselves, the next ques- 
tion is, how shall we meet them? This query will sound 
absolutely absurd to the easy, affable man, who has never, in 
the whole course of his comfortable career, had to propound 
to himself such a problem; but there is a whole army of shy, 
diffident men w^ho not only spend a good part of their time 

512 



THE AWKWARD AND SHY. 



513 



considering it, but come away from every encounter utterly 
vanquished and discouraged. 

In theory the answer might be something like this: In 
the first place, don't think about how you are to meet any- 
body; for the moment you begin to deliberate you are lost. If 
you begin to consider the figure you are going to make, depend 
upon it, the figure will be an awkward one. Self-conscious- 
ness is the beginning of awkwardness. Say to yourself, when 
about to be introduced to a roomful of people: " They are only 
human beings like myself; there is sure to be a large majority 
with kindly intentions toward me, and to those who have not, 
if they are so mean and unjust as to judge me without good 
cause, I fling a Carlylean defiance, and say, what is the worst 
that you can do to me ? ' Let it come, then ; I will meet it 
and defy it.'" Ask yourself, as his hero did: "What art 
thou afraid of? Wherefore, like a coward, dost thou forever 
pip and whimper, and go cowering and trembling?" There 
is surely nothing in this world that cannot be overcome with 
a resolute front. 

In the next place, if you find yourself getting heated and 
hurried, inwardly resolve that you will not hurry, that you 
will take time, though the heavens fall. In this way you 
avoid stepping upon Mrs. Verney's dress, stumbling over a 
hassock, or imperiling a fragile statuette with your elbow. It 
was the extreme hurry of the bashful man, which caused him, 
when sent to bring a book from a book-case, not to pay suffi- 
cient attention to the title, and thereby pull down a whole row 
of false backs made of wood, creating a terrific crash, to the 
wrath and mortification of his host, and untold misery of him- 
self. Besides, all haste is undignified. u Manners," says Emer- 
son, " require time." 

" But," protests the bashful man, " I want to get it over 

with, as soon as possible, and sink into a corner out of the gen- 
33 



514 



YOU AND I. 



eral gaze." Then we answer, crucify the desire the minute it 
comes. Nothing can be achieved in this field without martyr- 
dom, but it will richly pay you in the end. 

We believe we can understand and sympathize with you 
to a certain degree at least. You feel a cold perspiration 
about the hands and forehead, your heart doesn't seem to be 
in regular working order, but halts an instant, and then pumps 
up a larger supply of blood than usual, and this unexpected 
volume flies to the roots of your hair, and stays there. There 
is a fiendish chill crawling up your spine, and you begin to 
wonder which will cause the most disgrace to your family 
and yourself, your entrance into the roomful of chattering 
society people, or your sudden and ignominous flight from the 
scene of torture. The balance begins to dip toward the lat- 
ter course, when you are seized by the hostess or some femi- 
nine relative, and actually dragged before the cannon's mouth. 
You never knew how you got through with it, but when once 
more alone with yourself, you have a confused remembrance of 
a sort of mad, delirious nightmare, in which the only thing of 
which you are at all sure is that your answers to pretty Miss 
Frankness were drivelling idiocy, that Mrs. Highbone was 
convinced that you were a dolt, and that no one could possi- 
bly be more aware that you were all these and much more, 
than you are yourself. 

If you are not courageous, you vow never to subject your- 
self to such mortification again. If you are of an unconquer- 
able spirit, you resolve to go in and win. 

It is to the latter class that we shall try to offer some 
words of encouragement, for they richly deserve them. 

Very likely you will begin by protesting that the theory 
is fine but impracticable. " ' Self-consciousness is the begin- 
ning of awkwardness,' " you quote. "Yes, very true, but 
it is impossible to banish the self-consciousness." No, it 



THE A WKWARD AND SHY. 



515 



is not impossible. Suppose you are a bashful, awkward 
youth — we say youth instead of maiden, because boys, 
for some reason, are much more apt to be painfully shy than 
girls — or it may be quite probable that you have grown to 
man's estate without having overcome this feeling, and you 
are about to be brought into a roomful of people. If you 
feel the usual painful sensations coming on, just say to your- 
self: " These people are all enjoying themselves with each 
other; I am not of enough account to be likely to cause them 
to take a second thought about me, and the main point is to 
answer their salutations in a respectful manner. If I show 
them the proper deference that is all they require of me. As 
for holding my head erect, I suppose I can do that, for I 
haven't done anything baser than the majority of mankind, 
that I should be ashamed of myself. As for my feet and hands, 
if I resolutely keep them still, no attention will be drawn to 
them, but the moment I begin to shift them around in various 
positions I will become practically nothing but feet and hands, 
they will swell to grotesque and abnormal proportions, will 
take a sort of demoniac possession of me, and drive me, 
in the .end, to complete distraction. No, clearly I must 
master my feet and hands and keep them in utter subjection. 
Suppose I suddenly discover that I am sitting in a con- 
strained, stiff attitude. Very well, then I will continue it, for 
if I make a change, the next one may be worse, and by the 
time I have made two or three changes, I will have attracted 
the attention of the one to whom I am talking, to what I am 
trying to accomplish. He will begin to take an interest in 
the operation, and wonder how I am going to come out, 
and the moment this happens, I am lost. 

" If any individual is inclined to talk to me, it would be 
much less egotistical and a good deal more sensible, if I were 
to give my whole attention to listening to him, rather than 



516 



YOU AND I. 



thinking about myself. If I know anything about what he is 
saying, I will try to respond with my honest opinion on the 
subject. If I don't know anything about it, I may learn some- 
thing, besides paying him the compliment of my earnest 
attention. The latter is an important point, for not only is 
careful attention to intelligent conversation the beginning of 
w r isdom, but it is often taken for wisdom itself. 

"If I am in the company of young girls who congregate in 
corners and giggle, causing me to think that my awkwardness 
is the sole cause of their merriment, instead of growing 
uneasy and red with mortification, I ought to be able to swell 
up, and tower in exaltation over them, when I think how 
infinitely to be preferred my conduct is to theirs, for if I am 
not graceful and easy, I am not so ill-bred as they are, nor 
could I descend to the plane upon which they have put them- 
selves." 

"But," some one protests, " that's priggish. 1 ' Not at all. 
To be quietly dignified is not to be a prig. 

We have known those who, in attempting to overcome 
intense bashfulness, have rushed into the other extreme of law- 
lessness and familiarity. In this case the remedy is worse 
than the disease. But the unhappy patient is not always- 
accountable for the dose. We have known people, when 
under a severe pressure, to make remarks for the sake of say- 
ing something, which afterward, in their calm moments, they 
would have given worlds to recall. The best way, when one 
is apt to say rashly terrible things and to be wildly irrespon- 
sible, for the sake of rushing into a conversational breach, is 
to take the risk of being called awkward and taciturn, and 
say nothing. 

Again, we have known young gentlemen who, being ex- 
ceedingly bashful, wished so much to be called easy-mannered, 
that they walked into your parlor, threw themselves back in 



THE A WKWARD AND SHY. 



517 



a lounging attitude on a sofa or easy chair, noticed elderly 
occupants of the room only with a careless nod, and altogether 
had a bored, condescending air which was highly exasperating 
to others, and somehow conveyed the impression that you 
were all Eastern slaves in the presence of the Sultan. 

Some very good people, under the stress of trying to make a 
passable figure before others, seem to lose all control of their 
voices, and shriek in a high key, which they would not think 
of doing under ordinary circumstances. Mrs. Sherwood tells 
of a lady who was presented at court, and "who felt — as she 
described herself — wonderfully at her ease, began talking, 
and, without wishing to speak loud, discovered that she was 
shouting like a trumpeter. The somewhat unusual strain 
which she had put upon herself during the ordeal of being 
presented at the English court, revenged itself by an outpour- 
ing of voice which she could not control." 

Some very shy people are peculiarly affected by certain 
persons before whom they wish to appear at their best. One 
lady of whom we have heard complained that when a certain 
gentleman called, her voice actually degenerated into a squeal, 
and another that her words seemed going off into the distance 
somewhere, as if they belonged to some one else. 

Hawthorne's Shyness. — Many of the most celebrated 
lights of literature have been exceedingly bashful men. 
Among these, a notable example was Hawthorne. This fine 
genius seems to have inherited shyness; it " ran in the family." 
But it is probable that the peculiar bent of his tastes, and the 
people by whom he found himself surrounded, had much to 
do with the strengthening of this tendency. Had Hawthorne 
been placed among congenial neighbors who could, in some 
degree, have sympathized with his thoughts and aims, or had 
-his been one of the same easy-going, common-place intellects 



518 



YOU AND I. 



as those about him, he would doubtless have overcome much 
of his natural shyness. 

Julian Hawthorne has thrown some new light on this prob- 
lem in his recent article on the " Philosphy of Hawthorne." 
He says: " What passed for society in Salem was, indeed, as 
destitute of attraction as society can be, and an intelligent 
man, with thoughts and a soul of his own, might well shun 
contact with it. The consciousness of being at odds with the 
spirit of his time and surroundings had the effect of making 
him build a wall of separation still higher. Naturally reserved, 
the dread of unsympathetic eyes rendered him an actual 
recluse." 

Yet the man who withdrew himself so persistently from 
society, had no wish to encourage this tendency in others. 
" And the truth which Hawthorne perceived perhaps more 
profoundly than any other was that of the brotherhood of 
man. By inheritance and training he tended toward exclu- 
siveness; but both his heart and his intellect showed him the 
shallowness of such a scheme of existence. So far back as 
1835 we find him canvassing the idea of some common quality 
or circumstance that shall bring together people the most 
unlike in other respects, and make a brotherhood and sister- 
hood of them." 

Others Who Have Been Shy. — Washington, Jefferson and 
Grant were decidedly inclined to timidity in society, and 
"Moltke is silent in eight languages." Sheridan and Curran 
almost fainted at the sound of their own voices in their first 
speech in public, and Pope declared that while he could talk 
with two or three persons pretty well, a dozen were his 
complete undoing. Theodore Hook always had unpleasant 
sensations on entering a room; and Sir Philip Francis, 
of the trenchant pen, made this confession: " I am thoroughly 



THE A WK WARD AND SHY. 



519 



conscious oi my own infirmities. Even signs and gestures 
are sufficient to disconcert me." 

Cowper, to whom we have before alluded, was so exceed- 
ingly timid that, even in his country rambles, he would con- 
ceal himself, rather than approach a passing stranger on the 
road. It is related that on the day when he was first to 
appear as clerk in the House of Lords, and had simply to 
read some parliamentary notices, his courage forsook him to 
such an extent that he was discovered, by a servant, pre- 
paring to hang himself, rather than make a ridiculous figure 
before the public. 

Treatment of the Shy. — Extreme bashfulness is generally 
an inherited trait, and the parent who is aware that the son or 
daughter is likely to suffer from this misery, should take steps, 
as early as possible, to cure or modify it. The youth or miss 
should be taught elocution, dancing, fencing and gymnastics. 
Nothing gives us so much assurance as the knowledge that 
we can do a thing well. If the voice has become so highly 
trained that every shade and intonation is our ready slave, we 
dismiss all fear on that point, and say to ourselves, " I shall be 
likely to speak as well as the others," and, feeling this way, we 
are sure to do ourselves credit. If the muscles of the body have 
been trained to graceful carriage, it will be quite as much of 
an effort to move awkwardly, as it is for the untrained to be 
graceful. Of course, there are some who, being without self- 
consciousness, are naturally easy in their movements, but these 
we are not now considering. 

Be sure to bring the boy and girl into your drawing-room 
occasionally, and observe how they deport themselves in the 
company of their elders, but above all things do not let them 
see that you are watching them. If they are excessively shy, 
do not reprove them by word or glance for anything they may 



520 YOU AND I. 

do, unless in an extreme case. Let them get accustomed to 
their surroundings, and be able to remain in the room half an 
hour without visible wretchedness, before you begin to criti- 
cise their behavior. Above all things, never allow brothers or 
sisters or any one to speak to them about their awkwardness. 
They are generally too well aware of this fact to need any 
reminder, which may lead them to exaggerate their case, and 
become morbidly sensitive on the subject. 

We are supposing mental training to keep pace with 
these other accomplishments, for no matter how easy and ele- 
gant the bearing, the ignorant person is bound to be awkward 
in the company of the educated. 

Suppose you are thrown in contact with a very bashful per- 
son, it is best at first not to try to draw him out in any way. 
Don't say things that will require answers, or expressions of 
his opinion, but venture to air a few of your own impressions, 
or relate some little incident of your experience. This will 
convince him that you are neither pitying his weakness, nor 
terribly conscious of it, and will give him time to pull himself 
together and to enter the arena with some little credit to 
himself. It is a great deal better to appear indifferent than 
kindly sympathetic at such a time. Your pity, which gener- 
ally becomes apparent to the bashful individual, immediately 
proclaims to him the fact of your perfect immunity from what 
he is suffering, thereby increasing his awe of such a superior 
creature, and raising a barrier between you. 

It has been noticed by some careful observers that two shy 
people generally get along very well together. Each cne is 
thinking much more about himself than he is of the other; 
this fact very soon becomes mutually known, and the sufferers 
thereby gain a certain calmness and strength. Sometimes 
one or the other will become actually bold in the thought that 
at least he can do better than his companion. 



THE A WKWARD AND SHY. 



521 



Why Should Tou Not Be Shy? — For a great many rea- 
sons. You make all with whom you come in contact uncom- 
fortable. One painfully bashful man or woman will throw a 
constraint over a whole roomful. You cannot at once enter 
into friendly relations with any one. The position has to be 
stormed, or carried by strategy, and you cannot expect every- 
one to take the trouble to do this. 

You will go through life underrated and misunderstood. 
If the public do not know you through your writings, you 
may be as humorous as Lamb, as witty as Sidney Smith, as 
learned as John Selden, and as wise as Socrates, and no one 
will ever find it out. 

The Cause of Shyness. — The generally received opinion is 
that shyness comes from extreme modesty or self-abasement; 
and this is doubtless, in a certain degree, true. The feeling 
that you do not know how to do a thing, is a presage of fail- 
ure; and to be quite sure that you are not going to do it as 
well as some one else, is enough to make it certain that you 
will not. 

Still there are certain thinkers and writers who declare that 
shyness is egotism. Now, however paradoxical the state- 
ment may sound, we are convinced that there is much truth 
in it. Of course this sort of egotism is a long remove from 
that kind of conceit which imagines that what it does and says 
is worthy to be seen and heard of men, and may be a pattern 
to less gifted humanity; but, nevertheless, it is the sort which is 
always thinking of itself, though it be in humiliation and bitter- 
ness of spirit. Now, if this self-consciousness could be 
exchanged for a strong interest in others, and a real absorption 
in their joys or sorrows, awkwardness and diffidence would 
vanish. 

The author of "John Halifax, v speaking of the hero in her 
story of "King Arthur," says: "There had never been much 



522 



YOU AND I. 



of the 1 hobbledehoy 1 in him, probably because he was not 
shy — he did not think enough about himself for shyness. 
Reserved he was, in a sense; but that painful bashfulness, 
which as often springs from egotism as modesty, never 
trouble him much. By nature — and also by wise upbringing 
— he was a complete altruist — always interested in other 
people, and ' bothering ' himself very little about himself and 
his own affairs." 

Again, it seems that a natural distrust of people may have 
much to do with bashfulness. The child who has no fear of 
a stranger, but seems sure of good treatment, immediately 
puts its little hand in yours, with the most charming confi- 
dence, while another child will crawl out of sight or hide its 
head in its mother's skirts in a perfect agony of bashfulness; 
thus showing that this trust in, or suspicion of strangers, is 
nearly always an inborn tendency, which is hard to modify or 
change. Still it can be in a measure changed. Humanity, 
after all, is about fifteen carats fine. It is not nearly so bad as 
you thought it, O mistrustful man! Give it the benefit of 
the doubt, meet it in a cordial, kindly way, and very often, 
like the confiding child which slips its hand in yours, you will 
disarm any animosity or uncharitableness which may have 
existed toward you. We do not say, " wear your heart on 
your sleeve, for daws to peck at;" but we do say: 

O let thy soul be quick to see a soul; 

Put off the visor of distrust when thou 

Dost meet thy kind. Its chafing steel but wear, 

When thou hast pressing need, for thy defense. 



AT HOME, AND FOREIGN COURTS. 




N Washington, society 
seems to be governed to a 
certain extent by a stand- 
ard of its own. The de- 
mands of social life at the 
capital require a code more exact 
and complicated than that in use in other 
cities. A gentleman's social status is 
gauged by his official position, and a 
lady's by that of her husband. While 
there is plenty of very good society, there is also much that 
is incongruous and ill-assorted, from the bringing together of 
the cultured and uncultured, worldly and unsophisticated, 
from the different sections of a great nation. 

The Highest Rank. — The President naturally leads, not 
only in official, but social rank. He is generally alluded to 
as " The President, " and is so designated by his wife. 

Any one has the privilege of calling upon the President, but 
the latter is under no obligations to return any visit. He may 
call upon a friend, if he wish, but this courtesy is not expected 
of him. The same rule applies to the wife of the President. 

523 



524 



YOU AND I. 



Calling on the President. — A person wishing to meet the 
President is shown to the secretaries' room, presents his card, 
and waits to be admitted. Persons who come upon business 
are given precedence over those who simply wish to make a 
formal call. In the latter case it is best for the persons call- 
ing to pay their respects and withdraw as soon as they can 
do so gracefully. If there is any reason, beyond mere curios- 
ity, for making a private call, secure, if possible, an introduc- 
tion from some official, or friend of the President. 




THE WHITE HOUSE. 



Presidential Receptions. — Receptions are given at the 
White House, by the President, at stated times, while Con- 
gress is in session. These are held either in the morning or 
evening, and all are at liberty to attend them. The guest, 
upon entering the reception room, gives his name to the usher, 
who announces it ; as the guest approaches the President, he 
is introduced to him by some official to whom this duty is 



A T HOME, AND FOREIGN COURTS. 



525 



assigned. The President's family usually receive with him, 
and, after the caller has paid his respects to each one (which, 
when there is a crush, is simply confined to a bow), he passes 
on, and, stepping aside, mingles in conversation with others, 
perhaps strolling through the various rooms which are open 
to guests. If one wish, he may leave his card, but this is 
not obligatory. 

State Dinners. — Precedence is given guests according to 
their official rank. An invitation from the President is equiv- 
alent to a command, and must be accepted unless there are 
very grave reasons rendering attendance impossible. It is 
not regarded as discourteous to break another engagement in 
order to be present, provided, of course, the reason is plainly 
stated in the regret. 

New Year's Receptions. — It is customary for the President 
and family to hold a reception on New Year's day, which 
ladies and gentlemen alike attend, and at which diplomates, 
officials and attaches are expected to pay their respects. It is 
the rule for all the gentlemen entitled to wear uniforms to 
appear in them. The foreign legations present a brilliant 
spectacle' in the handsome court dress of their respective 
countries. The ladies wear their most elegant toilettes, suit- 
able to day receptions. They do not remove hats or bonnets 
except when they are members of the families of the cabinet 
officers, in which case they are considered, in a certain sense, as 
belonging to the President's household, and appear in recep- 
tion dress, without bonnets. 

New Year's day is very generally observed in Washington, 
many of the old families not having closed their doors on this 
day for years. Says the author of " A Washington Winter:" 
" A Washington season may be said to commence on New 
Year's day, and to terminate with Ash Wednesday." 



526 



YOU AND I. 



The Order of Rank. — Next in rank after the President is 
the Chief Justice, whose office not being dependent on the rise 
and fall of political parties and, hence, being stable and endur- 
ing, seems to give him precedence over cabinet ministers and 
senators. He is addressed as "Mr. Chief Justice;" an associate 
Justice is addressed as " Mr. Justice." 

Next in order of precedence is the Vice-President, and 
after him, the Speaker of the House. 

Next in order are the General of the Army and Admiral 
of the Navy. Members of the House of Representatives call 
first on the above named officials. 

The Cabinet. — Members of the Cabinet are accorded 
precedence in the order of the departments, as follows: the 
State, the Treasury, the War, the Navy, the General Post 
Office, the Interior, and the Department of Justice. The 
Chiefs of these departments are entitled to equal privileges 
and consideration, and it is only on State occasions, such as 
formal dinners, etc., that it is necessary to consider the order 
of their precedence. 

It has been a somewhat mooted point which should first 
call upon the other, the senator or the cabinet minister, but 
the balance of favor has seemed to be for the claim of the 
former. Yet it seems that the senator's wives might grace- 
fully yield this point, in view of the heavy burden of social 
responsibility imposed upon the ladies of the cabinet. At the 
receptions of the latter, which are held every Wednesday 
during the season, their houses are open to all who may 
choose to call. They are also obliged to return all the first 
calls of the ladies who have attended, and to leave the card of 
the cabinet officer, and an invitation to an evening reception. 
The cabinet officers are expected to entertain Senators, 
Representatives, Justices of the Supreme Court, members of 



AT HOME, AND FOREIGN COURTS. 



527 



the diplomatic corps, and distinguished visitors, and also the 
ladies of their respective families. When it is remembered 
that the ladies of the cabinet have not only to stand for hours 
receiving, but are also obliged, out of courtesy, to attend nu- 
merous entertainments given by others, and are, not infre- 
quently, appalled by a list of five hundred or more calls to 
pay after one of their receptions, all extra exactions that can 
be lifted from their shoulders should be removed willingly by 
the most precise stickler for precedence. 

Addressing Different Officials. — In writing to the Presi- 
dent the note should begin: " The President: Sir." The 
President in answering never signs himself " Yours truly," 
nor uses any of the usual terms of respect, but simply attaches 
his name. In speaking to him he is addressed as " Mr. Presi- 
dent," " Your Excellency " having of late fallen into disfavor. 
The Vice-President is addressed as " The Honorable, the 
Vice-President of the United States," and in speaking, as 
"Mr. Vice-President." In conversing, the Speaker of the House 
of Representatives should be addressed as "Mr. Speaker;" a 
member of the cabinet, "Mr. Secretary;" a senator, "Mr. 
Senator;" and a member of the House, " Mister," unless he 
has some other title. In introducing the latter he would be 

designated as " The Honorable Mr. , of ," naming 

the State he represents. 

Reception Days. — Certain days have been fixed upon at 
Washington at which certain classes, or ranks, of society are 
expected to be at home to callers. The families of Justices of 
the Supreme Court receive calls upon Mondays; the Speaker 
of the House of Representatives, and other members, 
and the General of the Army are at home on Tues- 
days; Wednesday is set apart as Cabinet day, and in the 



528 



YOU AND I. 



afternoon of that day the wife of every Secretary is expected 
to be at home; Thursday is the day for calling upon the 
families of the Vice-President and Senators; and Friday is the 
day chosen to receive by all those who are not of official rank ; 
Saturday has heretofore been the day of reception at the 
White House. Guests hand their cards to the usher on enter- 
ing, at any reception. 

Honrs for Calling. — Visiting hours are from two o'clock 
to half-past five, for day receptions. 

Calling Cards. — Washington ladies have their day for 
receiving and residence printed upon their cards. Owing to 
to the ceremonious and complicated social machinery which 
exists, they are much given to the turning down of corners 
and ends of cards. Turning down the whole right end of a 
card shows that the call is meant for all who are receiving. 

Formalities of Invitations. — The length of time interven- 
ing between the invitation and the dinner indicates the degree 
of formality of the occasion. A card of invitation sent ten 
days in advance signifies a State dinner, eight days being the 
usual time. Five days and, sometimes, so short a time as two, 
are allowed, but the latter short notice is not usual except 
when some distinguished stranger, whose stay is limited, is to 
be entertained. 

At formal dinners, ladies wear as elegant toilettes as possible, 
and gentlemen wear the conventional dinner dress. At all 
dinners, the gloves are removed on sitting down to the table. 

First Calls. — Residents call first on strangers, and among 
strangers, first comers call on later arrivals. An exception 
to this is foreign ministers; they are expected to pay the first 
visit to the ministers of the nation to which they have come. 
This exception does not include their families. What might 



AT HOME, AND FOREIGN COURTS. 



529 



also be called an exception is that visitors at Washington are 
expected to call upon their own Senators and Congressmen 
and other officials, if they wish to make their acquaintance, as 
the visitors' presence in the city will not otherwise be known 
and recognized. Among officials and their families, order of 
rank determines who shall make the first call, the lower call- 
ing first on the higher. 

Senators, Representatives, etc. — Senators, Representatives, 
and all other officials except the President and Cabinet, may 
entertain or not, just as they choose. It is entirely optional 
with them. 




RIDEAU HALL. 



Ottawa. — The customs observed at the Dominion Capital 
are similar to those of England, and a " drawing-room " held 
at Rideau Hall, is the same, with perhaps a shade less of 
formality and imposing ceremony, as one given by Her Maj- 
esty, Queen Victoria. 

34 



530 



YOU AND I. 



The Governor -Generah — The Governor-General, when 
under the rank of a duke, is styled " His Excellency;" the 
wife of the Governor-General, " Her Excellency." 

English Society. — In England the king and queen are at 
the apex of the social structure. They are addressed as 
"Your Majesty." The heir-apparent, who always bears the 
title of the Prince of Wales, comes next in dignity, and the 
younger sons, on attaining their majority, assume the title of 
duke. The eldest daughter is called the crown princess, and 
all the daughters retain the title of princess. Both sons and 
daughters are called "Your Royal Highness." The royal 
children, during their minority, are styled princes and 
princesses. 

Nobility. — A duke, inheriting the title from his father, 
stands one grade below a royal duke. The wife of a duke is 
a duchess. Both are addressed as " Your Grace." The eld- 
est son of a duke is a marquis until the death of his father, 
when he inherits the title. The wife of a marquis is a mar- 
chioness. The younger sons are lords by courtesy, and the 
daughters have " Lady " prefixed to their Christian names. 

Earls and barons are also designated lords, and their wives 
ladies, though the latter are, by right, respectively countesses 
and baronesses. The daughters of earls are called ladies, and 
the younger sons of earls and barons, honorables. The earl 
stands higher than the baron in the peerage. 

Bishops are lords by right of their ecclesiastical office, but 
the title is not hereditary. 

Gentry. — A baronet has the title " Sir," and his wife, 
" Lady." They are in reality commoners of high degree, 
though some families, who have honorably borne this title 
through many generations, would not exchange it for a 
recently created peerage. 



AT HOME, AND FOREIGN COURTS. 



531 



A clergyman, by right of his calling, stands on an equality 
with commoners of the highest degree. 

Esquire. — The title of Esquire which in this country we 
find affixed to the name of Brown, Jones and Robinson, and 
which means just nothing at all, in England has a special sig- 
nificance. The following have, in that country, a legal right 
to the title: 

The sons of peers. 

The eldest sons of peers' sons, and their eldest sons in per- 
petual succession. 

All the sons of baronets. 

All esquires of Knights of the Bath. 

Lords of manors, chiefs of clans, and other tenants of the 
crown in caftite are esquires by prescription. 

Esquires who are created to that rank by patent, and their 
eldest sons in perpetual succession. 

Esquires by office, such as justices of the peace while on 
the roll, mayors of towns during office, and sheriffs of coun- 
ties, the latter retaining the title for life. 

Members of the House of Commons. 

Barristers-at-law. 

Bachelors of divinity, law and physic. 

Presentation at Court. — People of all nationalities may be 
presented to the Queen by one of her subjects of rank and 
good standing, provided the person presented is irreproach- 
able as to reputation. Her majesty, whose own life will bear 
so close an investigation, that she can, with the utmost consis- 
tency, demand a high moral standard at her court, rigidly 
excludes all persons who may be in any way objectionable. 

Those Eligible for Presentation. — Supposing the moral 
qualification to exist, the nobility, and their wives and daugh- 



532 



YOU AND I. 



ters, are eligible for presentation at court. The clergy, naval 
and military officers, physicians and barristers, and the squire- 
archy, with their wives and daughters, have also the right to 
pay their respects to the Queen. Merchants, mechanics, and 
those " in trade," have not, in the past, been allowed this priv- 
ilege, but wealth and aristocratic connections have of late 
opened even to these the gates of St. James. 

Any person who has been presented at court has the right, 
afterwards, to present a friend. 

Necessary Preliminaries to Presentation. — Any lady or 
gentleman wishing to be presented, must leave at the Lord 
Chamberlain's office before noon, two days before the levee, a 
card with his or her name thereon, and the name of the per- 
son by whom she or he is to be presented. The rule is that 
no presentation can be made at a levee, except by a person in 
actual attendance on that occasion. For this reason, there 
should accompany the presentation card a letter from the per- 
son who is to make the presentation, stating his intention to 
be present. This letter is submitted to the Queen for 
her approval. These regulations must be implicitly obeyed. 

Directions as to which gate to enter, and where carriages 
are to stop, are always given in the daily newspapers. 

Presentation Costume. — A lady must be in full dress, with 
low cut corsage, and short sleeves. In addition to what is 
usually considered full dress, she must wear a long, court 
train, plumes in the hair, and lace tippets. As to these latter 
accessories, any London modiste will give her all the neces- 
sary information. 

The short breeches and long silk hose, with other belong- 
ings, which constitute a court dress for gentlemen, will be fur- 
nished in correct style by any London tailor of reputable 
standing. 



AT HOME, AND FOREIGN COURTS 533 

The Presentation. — In order to get to the audience room 
with one's garments in a presentable condition, it is wise to 
go early to escape the dense crowd which sometimes surges 
through the entrance-way. The lady must take nothing with 
her from her carriage, such as a wrap or scarf. As she enters 
the long gallery of St. James, where she awaits her turn for 
presentation, her train should be carefully folded over her left 
arm. As she passes over the threshold of the presence-cham- 
ber, on her entrance, she drops her train, which is immedi- 
ately spread out by the wands of the lords-in^waiting. The 
lady walks forward toward the sovereign, or the person who 
represents the sovereign, and the card upon which her name 
is inscribed is handed to another lord-in-waiting, who reads 
her name aloud. When she arrives before the Queen, she 
courtesies very low, almost kneeling. 

If the lady presented be the wife or daughter of a peer, the 
Queen kisses her on the forehead; if a commoner, the Queen 
extends her hand to be kissed. The lady having done so, 
rises, courtesies to the other members of the royal family, who 
stand about Her Majesty, and passes out. As she must 
never turn her back upon royalty, she is obliged to exercise 
considerable dexterity in the management of her train, in 
making her exit. 

Im-perial Rank. — An emperor ranks higher than a king. 
The sons and daughters of the Austrian emperor are called 
archdukes and archduchesses, the title coming down when the 
ruler of that country modestly claimed no higher title than 
archduke. 

The emperor of Russia is known as the czar (sometimes 
spelled tzar, and the empress tzarina, or tzaritza), this rank 
being the same as the Roman csesar or the German kaisar. 
The empress is called the czarina, the heir-apparent the 



534 



YOU AND I. 



czarowitz, and the other sons and daughters, grand dukes and 
grand duchesses. 

Other Titles. — Titles in many parts of Europe often mean 
no more than the numerous " Colonels, 17 " Honorables," and 
" Esquires," which flow so luxuriantly in some sections of this 
country. A German baron may be a good, honest tiller of 
the soil like an American farmer. A count may not own an 
acre of his own, and may not even be respectable, while the 
multitude of Italian and German princes may number not 
only some very commonplace individuals, but many who are 
seeking to make a living by practices that are not strictly 
honorable. 



SUPERSTITIONS OF WEDDING-RINGS 
AND PRECIOUS STONES. 




LMOST all the precious stones 
used in rino-s had their own 



peculiar significance 



in 



old 



en 



In the earliest mention of rings which we 
can find, they were used as symbols of authority. 
If the emperor, or any one of high position, took off his signet 
ring and handed it to an official, the act, for the time being, 
invested this subordinate with his master's authority. 

The first mention of Rings in the Bible is in Genesis xh 
and xlii, when Pharoah advanced Joseph to be, next to him- 
self, chief in Egypt: -'And he took off his ring from his hand 
and put it on Joseph's hand, and made him ruler over all 
Egypt." When the Israelites conquered the Midianites, they 
took all the rings and bracelets found among them, and offered 
them to the Lord. Ahasuerus took his ring from his hand 
and gave it to the Jews 1 most vindictive enemy, Haman, and, 
by that sign, gave him unlimited control over the people and 
their property, "to do with them as seemeth good unto him/* 
But, becoming convinced of Hainan's evil purposes, he 
reclaimed the ring, and gave it to Mordecai, by that act 
enabling him to save his people. The father, joyfully receiv- 
ing back his prodigal son, clothed him in fine raiment, and 
sealed his forgiveness by putting a ring on his hand. 

535 



536 



WEDDING-RINGS AND PRECIOUS STONES. 



Signet-rings were also used for sealing important docu- 
ments. The Egyptians used them both as a business voucher 
and for ornament. Rings, whether for seals or for adornment, 
were, among the Egyptians, usually buried with the dead, and 
very many have been found in their tombs. Bronze or silver 
was chiefly used for the signet-ring, and gold for ornament. 
Among the poorer class, rings of ivory or blue porcelain were 
chiefly used. Plain bands of gold were much used, and 
almost invariably engraved with some motto, device, or the 
representation of their deities. Among the rich, rings were 
worn not only three or four on the finger, but on the thumbs. 
No one was considered in full dress among the Jews without 
the signet-ring; and the ladies, instead of the plain gold band, 
had their rings highly adorned with costly gems — rubies, 
emeralds and chrysolites being the most highly valued. The 
Hebrews and people of Asia evidently wore rings some time 
before they were known in Greece; but, having once been 
introduced there, their use spread rapidly. In the days of 
Solon every freedman wore a signet-ring of gold, silver or 
bronze. Wearing jewelery at length became so extravagant 
that the lawgivers attempted to curtail its use, but for a long 
time with little apparent success. The Spartans for years 
refused to indulge such lavish adornment, wearing only iron 
signet-rings. 

As luxuries began to increase, the iron ring was quite dis- 
carded, and the Romans, Greeks and Egyptians carried their 
love for ornaments and jewelry to the most absurd extent, 
often covering each finger and the thumbs up to the middle 
joint of both hands, and increasing the value by addition of 
precious stones to an astonishing extent. Some of the royal 
ladies, and the most conspicuous of the nobility, are said to 
have worn rings costing what in our money would be equal to 
$200,000 and $300,000. 



YOU AND I. 



537 



The Jews wore the signet-ring on the right hand and on 
either the middle or little fingers. The early Christians, who fol- 
lowed the custom of wearing rings, adopted also the Egyptian 
mode of putting the most significant ring on the second finger 
of the left hand, engraving on them something emblematical 
of their faith and worship — a palm-leaf, a dove, an anchor, a 
cross, or pictures of the Saviour or his Apostles; but rings 
were not known among the Christians till A. D. 800. All the 
bishops wore a ring indicating their peculiar office. When a 
pope is consecrated, a seal ring of steel is put upon his hand, 
and afterward committed to the charge of some of his cardi- 
nals. At the death of a pope this ring is broken, and a new 
one made for his successor. Some precious stone is always 
set in the episcopal ring — a crystal, ruby, sapphire or 
amethyst. A cardinal's ring is usually ornamented with a 
sapphire, and we believe an amethyst is the symbol of a Jewish 
rabbi of the highest standing, and worn with his robes of 
royal purple velvet. 

For many years one important part of ecclesiastical sym- 
bols, or insignia, has been a ring of some peculiar form. It 
was a mark or token of dignity or authority, and was supposed 
to symbolize the mysterious union of the priest and church. 
One ring, and the most important one set apart for the pope, 
was kept for the signature of important church papers. The 
usual forms of pontifical rings have some massive book or 
crossed keys engraved on them. 

As wedding gifts, or pledges of betrothal, rings were used 
at a very early period. Among the Romans an iron ring was 
the token of betrothal, as significant of the enduring character 
of the love and engagement. The custom of using a plain 
gold ring as the most appropriate for a wedding-ring, came to 
us from the Saxons. The engagement-ring may be as 
expensive and rich in precious stones as the bank account of 



538 



WEDDING-RINGS AND PRECIOUS STONES. 



the lover will warrant; but the plain gold, as rich and massive 
as you please, is the true wedding-ring. The use of this 
especial ring sprung from the old Roman custom of using a 
ring to bind agreements. The wife wears the engagement- 
ring after marriage in Germany, or did so formerly, and the 
husband the wedding-ring. The jemmel, or gimbal, are the 
twin, double rings, ornamented and engraved with tender or 
pious sentiment, often given on an engagement. Some of the 
mottoes, or " posies," engraved on such rings are very quaint 
and curious, and by some were regarded as magical: 

" First, love Christ, who died for thee; 
Next to him, love none but me." 

" Let lyking last." U A faithful wife preserveth life." "As 
God decreed, so we agreed." "I'll win and wear thee." 

Large and highly ornamented betrothal and wedding rings 
are much used by the Jews. On the top of the ring is often a 
small temple or tower, which can be opened by a spring, and 
containing inside the ark of the covenant in miniature. They 
are not to be the property of the newly-married pair, but are 
kept in the synagogue, and at a particular part of the service 
are placed on the fingers of the couple by the priest. 

Queen Elizabeth, it will be recollected, gave a ring to the 
Earl of Essex in token of esteem, promising, if he ever offended 
her, no matter how grossly, this ring, sent to her by him, 
would insure his forgiveness; but, when arrested for treason 
and sentenced to death, he sent the ring to the queen by a 
false friend, who withheld it, and Essex was executed. So 
runs the tale; whether it has any foundation or not, many 
romantic stories have sprung out of that incident. 

" Regard " rings were originated by the French, in which 
several different kinds of precious stones are combined, so as 
to either spell the name or spell "Regard;" two rubies, one 



YOU AND I. 



539 



emerald, one garnet, one amethyst and one diamond being 
necessary for the word. 

Very many superstitions have been connected with rings, 
and some still linger about them. The Egyptians placed the 
wedding-ring on the fourth finger of the left hand, because 
they supposed that an artery or nerve extended from that 
finger to the heart. The wedding-ring was thought to pos- 
sess the power to heal diseases, and many still rub a gold ring 
on the eyelid to drive off a sty, or any inflammation from it. 
It was long believed that if one procured some of the silver 
given as alms at the communion-table, made it into a ring, 
and put it on the finger of a child threatened with, or liable to, 
convulsions, it would ward off the danger. 

In olden times many rings were made with a concealed 
cavity in which some quick, active poison was placed, and by 
it the owner escaped tortures, or death by public execution. 
The ring of that great tyrant, Caesar Borgia, which he kept 
secret, or, rather, constantly in his own care — contained a poi- 
son which, it was rumored, he skillfully dropped into the wine 
of any guest whom he wished to put out of his way secretly. 
His father's (Alexander VI.) special favorite was a key-ring, 
in which was a poisoned needle that pierced the hand of any 
one attempting to unlock a certain casket. This ring was 
handed to any of his officials whose death was desirable, 
ostensibly to bring the tyrant some article from the cabinet. 
Of course, obedience to the command insured the victim's death. 

The Prince of Wales gave the Princess Alexandra a 
"keeper" ring on their marriage, set with beryl, emerald, 
ruby, turquoise, jacinth, and emerald again. This spells his. 
youthful family name, Bertie. 

The curative power, the signs, miracles, and all the long 
list of superstitions that have centered round rings, really rest, 
in almost every instance, in the jewel set in the ring, and not 



540 



WEDDING RINGS AND PRECIOUS STONES. 



in the circlet itself. Sentiment, and not magic, is attached 
to the band of gold. All those fancies are slowly dying away, 
though some of them are so beautiful that one rather delights 
in lingering over them, half believing, half — or more than 
half — skeptical. But, to a trusting, loving spirit, although the 
betrothal or wedding-rings carry with them no superstition, 
fond and sacred memories must be centered in them, that are 
of more value than all that magic could give. The hour that 
brought full assurance of love returned will daily be recalled 
by the sight of the golden pledge given and taken. And even 
more precious than any gem that may flash from that betrothal- 
ring, is the solid, plain, gold band that is the token of vows 
taken that death alone should sunder. 

Precious Stones. — We have given some of the supposed 
virtues and legends that for a long time clustered around rings, 
and have tried to show that all of magic or mystery rested in 
the jewels that are set in the ring, rather than in the golden 
circlet itself. We now attempt to give some account of those 
superstitions. 

The amethyst was, in some nations, given as a voucher for 
continued love and confidence, and, while worn, it was sup- 
posed that no power was able to shake the trust thus sealed; 
but if lost or defaced, all the sorrows and evils that are 
incident to broken faith and estranged affections might be 
hourly looked for. 

The Persians made drinking-cups of amethyst, under the 
impression that no beverage drunk from those cups could 
intoxicate. After a time, amethyst in any shape, whether as 
a cup, necklace, bracelet or ring, was considered a sure pro- 
tection from intemperance. Many of the Jewish rabbis and 
mediaeval writers asserted that, when worn, the amethyst sub- 
jected its wearer to wild and bewildering dreams; and yet 



YOU AND I. 



541 



this was one of the twelve stones which adorned the high- 
priest's breastplate. The amethyst, with its royal purple or 
new wine color, was, from the dawn of Christianity, famed 
as the emblem of the blood of Christ ; and from that supersti- 
tion it became a fixed law of the Roman Catholic Church that 
no bishop should perform official duties unless wearing an 
amethyst ring. 

The amethyst was also supposed to drive away bad dreams, 
sharpen the intellect, and act as an antidote to poison. 
It is, according to the language of gems, the " natal gem " of 
all born in the month of November, and in ancient times was 
worn as an amulet to propitiate good, and repel bad spirits. 

The Turquoise was believed by the people of the East to 
preserve all who wore it from contagion; and even now, not 
in the East alone, but in Christianized countries, it is still 
worn with full belief in the superstition. It was considered of 
priceless value, and many strange and contradictory stories 
were told of it. An ancient writer says: 

" One of my relatives possessed a ring in which a very fine 
turquoise was set, and wore it as a superior ornament. 
While he remained in perfect health, this stone was noted for 
its remarkable beauty and clearness. At last the owner was 
seized with a malady, of which he died. Scarcely was he dead 
when the turquoise lost its luster, and appeared faded and 
withered in appearance, as if mourning for its master. 

u I had originally designed to purchase it, and could have 
done so for a very trifling sum. But this loss of beauty and 
luster in the precious stone took from me all desire to possess 
it, and so the turquoise passed into other hands. But, as soon 
as it obtained a new master, it regained all of its original bril- 
liancy, and all defects vanished." 

The turquoise was thought, both by the Romans and Greeks, 
to bring good health and kind fortune to the wearer. The 



542 



WEDDING-RINGS AND PRECIOUS STONES. 



Shah of Persia never allowed any of the best and most brilliant 
of these stones to be taken from his kingdom. 

The carrielian, worn in a ring on the ringer, was thought by 
the Arabs and Hebrews to shield its owner from the plague, 
and is still used by many of the Hebrews to stop profuse 
hemorrhage. 

The topaz was believed to discover poison, by becoming 
instantly dimmed or blurred when brought near to any poison- 
ous substances ; that it would subdue the heat of boiling water, 
calm the passions, and prevent bad dreams; but that its 
powers were governed by the moon, increasing or decreasing 
with that luminary. 

The old legends, particularly those of the East, assure us 
that an immense carbuncle was suspended in the ark, to give 
light to Noah and his family. It was called "the flashing 
stone," and, by some, "the thunder stone," and that it and 
the diamond drop from the clouds in flashes of lightning dur- 
ing a thunder-storm. 

The ruby and carbuncle were, in ancient times, the names 
indiscriminately used for all red stones. The Brahmins still 
believe that the dwelling-place of the gods is illuminated by 
rubies, carbuncles and emeralds. The ruby and carbuncle 
were believed to be amulets against plague, poison, sadness, 
evil thoughts and wicked spirits. 

The sapphire, among the Hebrews, was a transparent stone, 
as blue as the vault of heaven; but among the Romans it was 
supposed to be mixed with gold. It was asserted in ancient 
times among the Hebrews, that the Ten Commandments 
were engraved on tablets of sapphire. To it were ascribed 
the magical power of preserving the sight, and strengthening 
both soul and body; of warding off wicked and impure 
thoughts; that it was a sure antidote to poison: and if 
put into a vessel with any poisonous creature, would kill it. 



YOU AND I. 



543 



St. Jerome says : " The sapphire procures favor with princes, 
pacifies enemies, overcomes enchantment, and releases its 
owner from captivity." On account of its purity it was worn 
by the high-priest. 

The onyx was said to cause strife and melancholy, and to 
cure epileptic fits. 

The jasfte?', if hung about the neck, was supposed to be a 
cure for indigestion — a wonderful strehgthener of the stomach. 

The bloodstone, or heliotrope is credited with the same 
curative power as the jasper. There is a legend, that during 
the crucifixion, the blood that flowed from the wound caused 
by the spear, fell upon a dark green jasper lying at the foot of 
the cross, and transformed it into a bloodstone. 

The opal, one of the most beautiful of all the precious 
stones, has had any amount of superstition attached to it. By 
some, the ill luck attributed to its use is said to have arisen 
from Sir Walter Scott's mention of it in "Anne of Geierstein." 
He ascribed to it supernatural agency; and, long after that 
novel was published, the belief in its evil influence was so 
strong that no one was willing to wear an opal. That may 
have been the first conception of evil from wearing opals ; but 
we think it sprang from Eastern superstition, or, at least, that 
there were many and various legends connected with it. 
Some believed that it often changed from a brilliant luster to 
a smoky, dull color, and that any such change foreshadowed 
misfortune and trouble, but did not bring it. We knew of an 
instance where a lady brought an elegant opal necklace to a 
jeweler's, desiring to sell it. They attempted to dissuade her 
from such folly, saying that the setting being old-fashioned, 
they could give her very little for what was really valuable. 
To this she replied that the necklace was given her as a bridal 
gift forty years before, and she had never had an hour's luck 
since they came into her possession, and she would never 



544 WEDDING-RINGS AND PRECIOUS STONES. 

carry them home with her. No matter how little they were 
willing to give her, she would leave them. She did so; but 
we have never heard if, by disposing of her opals for a mere 
trifle, she escaped subsequent misfortune. 

In Eastern nations the opal has always been highly prized; 
and with all the superstition associated with it, " ill luck," or 
evil influence has never been attributed to it. 

" Gray years ago a man lived in the East 
Who did possess a ring, of worth immense, 
From a beloved hand. Opal the stone, 
Which flashed a hundred bright and beauteous hues, 
And had the secret power to make beloved, 
Of God and man, the one 
Who wore it in this faith and confidence." 

The pearl, in China, is supposed to have many medicinal 
properties. 

The moonstone is known by the name of " Ceylon opal," and 
in earlier days much value was set upon it. 

Amber was, and still is, used to protect from witchery and 
sorcery ; and many of the present time believe it has singular 
properties for curing all catarrhal troubles. The Greeks 
believed that Phaeton's sisters, lamenting his loss after his 
death, turned into poplar trees, and their tears, which flowed 
continually into the river where they stood, were congealed 
into amber. 

Coral was thought by the Greeks to be formed from the 
blood which dropped from the head of Medusa, which Perseus 
hung on a tree near by the sea-shore. These drops, becoming 
hard, were planted by the sea-nymphs in the sea, where they 
grew up in branches, which, slowly uniting, became coral reefs. 

In the early ages, coral was used medicinally as an astrin- 
gent, and given also to new-born infants; and many valued it 



YOU AND I. 



545 



for its power to vanquish the devil and overcome his snares, 
if worn as an amulet. 

There has also been much of superstition connected with the 
way in which certain rings should be worn, and good or evil 
fortune prophesied as one conformed or refused compliance to 
the ''sign." Each finger had some sign attached to it which 
was used as a reason for caution. But, as each finger has its 
individual functions, there is nothing but what can be 
explained in the simplest and most common-sense manner, 
without resorting to magic, witchcraft or signs and wonders. 
The third finger is now usually the ring-finger — that is the 
wedding-ring finger. The ancients supposed that a nerve in 
that finger was intimately connected with the heart, and it 
was, therefore, set apart for this special honor. On the con- 
trary, it has less independent arteries than either of the others. 
It can not be bent or straightened very much without some 
motion or action of the fingers on either side ; and, as if in com- 
pensasation for this deficiency, is chosen as the ring-finger. 



